


Other Side of the Tracks

by Otinashi



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU, Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Violence, Gun Violence, M/M, Romance, Urban Fiction, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 164,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7633297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otinashi/pseuds/Otinashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rarely drifting from the safe and boring confines of his suburb, Ichigo finds trouble on the most dangerous side of town. Trouble becomes alluring when he finds himself falling for a straight drug dealer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tangled in his covers, Ichigo stumbled out of bed and made a loud thud as he crashed into the wall.

"Son of a bitch!" He fussed trying to free himself to stand properly. "Do they have any fucking idea what time it is?" He shouted once steady on two feet. His day hadn't begun and yet his sister already managed to fuck it up. Who gets drunk on a Monday, of all days? When his cell rang, waking him before dawn he thought some asshole was playing on his phone. Did people not care he was in college and had an early morning class? When he answered the phone and realized it was Tatsuki, he wished it had in fact been a prank caller. A call from Tatsuki meant his seventeen year old sister had gotten herself in some kind of trouble and he would have to be the one to go clean up her mess.

In nothing but socks and boxers, Ichigo threw on a purple, stripped crew tee, gray chinos and a pair of brown Vans. Expecting a chilly morning, he grabbed his orange Aero track hoodie as well. From his desk he picked up a messenger bag pre-packed for school the night before, dealing with his sister there was no telling if he would have time to come back. Rushing out his bedroom he nearly bumped into his scowling housemate.

"Do YOU have any idea what time it is?" Uryu stood in the hall, hands on his hips wearing his red pajama pants set and matching silk scarf tied around his head, cobalt blue eyes were void of glasses and narrowed in anger. "What the hell is all this thumping and yelling?" His eyes then traveled over Ichigo's outgrown, sleep tousled hair and down his outfit to his shoes.

"I have to go pick up Karin." Ichigo stepped around Uryu to the stairs.

"You're going looking like that? How embarrassing that must be for Karin." Uryu shook his head at the ensemble. As a fashion design major, he just couldn't ignore it. "Ever heard of color coordination?"

The colors did clash horribly, but Ichigo couldn't have cared less. "How about I coordinate my foot up your ass?"

"I wouldn't entertain your perversions, you're pretty sick."

"Shut the hell up," Ichigo yelled from the front door then slammed it shut. Uryu sure knew how to press his buttons.

Once outside the red-head hopped in his titanium, silver 650i BMW, the champagne colored leather seat comforting his back while he started the engine and shifted into gear. His tired sepia brown eyes squinted then rolled at the green, digital numbers displaying the current time on the car's dashboard.

"Damn kids these days," He grumbled, sounding like a grumpy, old man while turning around to see the street and safely back out the driveway. He wasn't looking forward to riding through Tatsuki's part of the city. Her house was situated right in the middle of a very dangerous, crime infested neighborhood. If someone wasn't getting robbed they were getting stabbed or shot. Dope dealers hung off nearly every corner and prostitutes roamed the streets. He'd visited the area only a handful of times before and for the wealthy college kid it was like stepping in foreign lands. The subsidized housing and run-down projects differed vastly from the Victorian style homes surrounded by white, picket fences and luxury condominiums in his suburb. His father owned his own very prosperous business and was able to give their family a very comfortable and spoiled life. Ichigo had it good, that much was true, but he was still a grounded young man and nothing like the rich, arrogant snobs around him. Feeling his father's status didn't make him better than anyone, he was very down to earth.

Still, comparing Ichigo's neighborhood to Tatsuki's was like comparing Pleasantville to Sin City. And it seemed the only thing separating the two worlds was a single railroad that met right in the middle. It was against some unwritten rule for anyone like Ichigo to cross those tracks, the reverse also applying. Of course that meant nothing to his sister, Karin, but he understood why she spent a lot of time on the other side. Ichigo was tired of his dry rotisserie of a life and most of the people in it, nothing worth mentioning happened, ever. The young student was also itching for a change and he knew there was no point searching anywhere in his boring borders. However, he didn't intend to be reckless just to see some action. When crossing the tracks he had enough sense to be cautious knowing he's just entered unsafe territory.

As soon as Ichigo rolled on the block a scantily dressed woman in scuffed ankle boots, daisy dukes and a hot pink tube top waved to him. She had stretch marks on a stomach that flopped over top her shorts, her matted wig sat crookedly on her head and to top it off it looked like she had missing front teeth, talk about a mess.

"Hey baby, I can show ya a good time!" she advertised when Ichigo slowed to round a corner. Without a doubt she was a prostitute looking for her next john.

"Like hell," Ichigo mumbled trying not to make eye contact. He was hardly across the tracks and already attracting unwanted attention. He expected as much though, driving a new BMW on this side of the city would get attention. New car meant good money, or better known as a good target. Staying focused on his goal of retrieving his sister, he drove in the direction of Tatsuki's home trying to ignore the few but annoying incoming hoots and hollers from the dope boys as he rode through the streets. He didn't want to entertain any of this attention or he might find himself in a bad situation.

Once at his destination he parked on the street behind a dark blue, 2008 Acura TXL. Ichigo could see Tatsuki sitting on the porch of her single story home, unlit joint hanging from her mouth and wearing navy coveralls with her short, black hair tied behind a black bandana. Stepping out the car, a boom of shrieking laughter radiated from Tatsuki's front door.

"Yo, Prep," Tatsuki nodded at her visitor. She called everyone by a nickname and hers for Ichigo was Prep because of his usual style of dress.

Grass on each side, Ichigo walked up a narrow cement path leading to the home. When he approached the steps Tatsuki pointed towards the open door, as if the noise emanating was enough indication where Karin was.

"It's shocking you're not as drunk as she is." Ichigo teased.

"Got early mornin' shit to handle, can't get nothin' done all fucked up."

"I have shit to handle too, ya know. I have class in the mornings and should still be sleep." He informed the dark-haired woman.

"Good for you." Tatsuki clapped her hands sarcastically. "On the real, I would let 'er stay, but I gotta leave for work. Plus she got school, ain't skippin' here so yer pops can send a brigade to bust down my door."

Taking a moment to think about it Ichigo had to agree, their dad could be rather dramatic and would go to any extreme to find one of his children. Tatsuki also had no real responsibility for his sister.

"I guess you're right. Thanks for lookin' after her." Ichigo said appreciatively.

"Man, chill wid all that, ya know Rin's my peoples, I get 'er."

Tatsuki and Karin met last year at a community center, both participating in karate classes. Their dad wanted to get Karin private lessons, but she refused saying she wanted the chance to be around normal people, or so she called them. She connected with Tatsuki because they're similar in a sense. No matter your social or economic background it's always possible to find common ground and their friendship grew from there. There had been plenty of times where Tatsuki watched over Karin while Ichigo couldn't be present. He still didn't trust the neighborhood, but Tatsuki was a good person.

"I'm 'bout to hit this herb before the nine to five." Lighter in hand, Tatsuki lit her joint and took a short huff. "Get yer sis 'cause all that loud shit is gonna fuck wid my high." The dark-haired woman then held out the weed and nodded at Ichigo.

It's been some time since the red-head smoked , but he figured what the hell, it was the least he could get out this situation and accepted the pass.

"What kind of work ya do anyway?" He asked, then inhaled deeply with a slow, deep pull. He savored the taste with the almost forgotten feeling of smoke filling his lungs.

"Damn, don't hit my shit like that, I need it to last." Disgruntled, Tatsuki held her hand out wanting her herb back. "And I'ma mechanic, nosy ass."

Ichigo passed the joint wordlessly trying to hold down the cough forming in his chest, guess it had been longer than he remembered. Tatsuki would have a lot to say about him hitting the bud like that only to choke on it. So he moved up the porch steps and into the house where he spotted his sister from the doorway. Karin was settled on a burgundy sofa, Tatuski's orange haired roommate, Orihime, perched in her lap. They appeared to be watching television, Karin's drunken laughter as loud as ever.

"Karin," Ichigo managed before that suppressed cough burning his chest worked its way to the surface.

"Knew it," Tatsuki sniggered from the outside. Had Ichigo not been currently hacking into his fist he would have barked a "Shut the hell up," in her direction.

"Hey Rin, look your brother is here." Said Orihime as she struggled to get loose of the grip Karin had on her waist. "Hi Ichigo, are you ok?" she asked concerned about his coughing.

"Nooo Orihime, I don't wanna leave you yet." Karin whined then laid her head on Orihime's large chest.

"R-Rin, your brother," Looking over at Ichigo, Orihime's face broke into a rose colored blush.

Karin had a crush on Orihime, and Ichigo could understand why. Even though he was gay, he knew a beautiful woman when he saw one, and Orihime was indeed beautiful. Burnt orange colored hair hung waist length down her back, she had big brown eyes and a slim but curvaceous figure. She also seemed to have a sweet personality. Ichigo talked with her a few times when she called to inform him of Karin's status, she was always very polite.

"Yeah, I'm cool, Orihime." Ichigo said after getting the last of the cough out his system. "Karin, stop fuckin' around and come on."

"Chill bro, yer trippin'." Karin squeezed the squirming woman in her lap into a hug, "I'm comin' back girl, know that." She told her.

"I-I know, Rin." Orihime crooned, patting Karin's arm and trying to conceal her blush by hiding her head on Karin's shoulder until she was set free to stand.

"Oh for fucks sake," Ichigo whispered, he was more than ready to leave. Although he had to admit the display was kind of cute. He could still remember when his sister was a little thing running around in matching dresses with her twin breaking valuables and blaming it on him. Now, here Karin stood about 5'6, wearing her shoulder length black hair back in a pony tail with her red fitted cap twisted to the side. Red skinny jeans, a black polo shirt and red on black Chuck Taylors made her look more like his brother than his sister as she favored the skater boy look. Although that was nothing new, Karin had been dressing like a guy since she was allowed to pick out her own clothing.

Finally saying her goodbye, Karin wobbled to her feet and swayed to Ichigo. Supporting her by her arm, Ichigo wanted to make sure Karin didn't fall down the porch steps.

"Aight Rin, Prep, I'll get up wid ya'll. Be breezy." Tatsuki threw two fingers to the side at her departing guests.

Ichigo's eyes tapered looking off to the side in confusion."Yeah ok, later." He had a slim understanding of street slang and didn't understand a lot of the terms used. Most things were easily picked up on, while other things left him scratching the side of his head.

"Later Tats," Karin tossed her arms in the air, slipping away from Ichigo. She stumbled into the grass where she lost her balance and fell on her behind.

Tatsuki threw her head back and hooted at the drunken clumsiness. Ichigo wasn't amused as he picked his sister up off the ground.

"Come on," He ushered her along and practically shoved her into the passenger's seat of his two door car, then hurried around to the driver's seat.

"You're a pain sometimes," He complained while starting the car then sniffing as something different was beginning to bother him. "What the hell is that smell?"

"Yer breath, bitch!" Karin laughed, she found her own comment knee-slappingly funny.

"Seriously, what the hell," Ichigo glanced in Karin's direction. "What's that all over your shoes?"

"Maaaan, there was mud in the grass."

"You dumbass, that's not mud, it's probably dog shit." Ichigo said, nose turned up. "Now I have to get my carpet cleaned.

Karin didn't seem to care, already ignoring him and content with her phone, laughing nonstop at whatever text she was receiving. They probably weren't even funny; the liquor in her system seemed to make everything hilarious. When the giggling ceased Ichigo looked over in her direction again noticing the serious look on her face.

"Karin, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I feel like," Karin said, then stopped mid sentence and held her stomach.

"Like what, you'll puke? You'd better not throw up in my car." A crease formed in his brow and he mashed the automated button rolling down her window. "Stick your head out th-."

Unfortunately the instructions proved too late as Karin twisted around in her seat and released her last meal along with whatever alcohol she drank on the back seat.

"You have to be fucking kidding me!" Ichigo fumed. He couldn't believe this girl just throw up in his car after her shoes got dog crap all over his floor mat.

"I feel better." Karin stated nonchalantly, turning back around and going back to her phone as if nothing happened.

Ichigo was so mad he had nothing to say to her. Being how she wouldn't remember most of it in the morning once she was sober, it was pointless to say much of anything anyway. About to pull off the curb, he stopped when a blue Corvette pulled across from him on the other side of the street. A car he knew belonged to his other sister, Yuzu. Becoming excited once seeing her twin's car, Karin decided to climb out the window of Ichigo's coupe and toppled on the sidewalk. "Yuzu!" She yelled loud enough to wake the dead.

Yuzu rolled down her window and stuck her head out. "Hey, Ichi," She smiled then immediately frowned upon seeing her sister stagger towards her Chevy.

"What are ya doin' here?" Ichigo asked rolling down his window as well.

"Karin called and said she needed a ride home."

"Well why the hell did Tatsuki call me?" Ichigo shot a confused glare out the window.

"Beats me," Yuzu shrugged. "Don't you have school today?"

Fooling around at Tatsuki's, Ichigo almost forgot he had a class due to start soon. "Yeah, you got Karin?"

"Yup," Yuzu nodded and pushed the door open for her twin letting her in the vehicle. "I'll text you when we get home." She said rolling up her window and pulling off down the street.

Ichigo had to laugh to keep from punching out his windows in frustration, that entire trip was pointless. He'd have to remember to cuss Karin out tomorrow; in the meantime he would head back through town. His class would be starting soon and he was really pushing it for time. Of course to slow him down he got a red light at the first traffic stop. His little reminders on the back seat and floor mat were kicking him in the nose.

"Hey there, ya wanna step out the car?" Said a voice from Ichigo's right. Looking over, a man wearing a white, fitted cap, white bandit bandana mask and a white wife-beater leaned in his window.

"How about you get the hell out of my window." Ichigo snapped, only partially registering the situation. He knew this neighborhood had all kinds of characters, but this guy had some nerve hanging in his car like that.

"I don't think ya heard 'im pretty boy, get the fuck out the car." At his driver's side now stood another bandana wearing thug, this one's was green and he also wore a green hoodie. Strange how he never even noticed either man approaching. "Don't even think about tryna pull off." Reaching behind his back the thug pulled out a .357 Smith and Wesson and pointed at Ichigo's head. At that very moment Ichigo's eyes widened with awareness as he was beginning to understand the predicament he was in.

"I was tryna be polite and ask, but ya had to get all snappy wid me." Said the white bandana robber. "Guess it can't be helped." He signed then pulled out a Lupara shotgun. "The car or yer life, yer choice."

Although he tried to hide his fear Ichigo's hand and knees were trembling. He could hear his own heart thumping in his chest sounding like hooves galloping across a dirt road. Ichigo really liked his car but sure wasn't ready to die to keep it from getting stolen. His entire body felt numb and he didn't think he could move, although the guns pointing in his direction were great motivation.

"O-Ok, but could ya get the gun out of my face?" Ichigo muttered, raising his quivering hands and trying to not make any sudden movements.

"Stop talkin' and just get the fuck out." Blurted the green bandana robber.

Cautiously Ichigo unlocked the doors, green bandana then jerked his door open and grabbed him by his jacket. Roughly he pulled Ichigo out his BMW and tossed him to the side of the road like a bag of garbage. The robber then placed himself in the driver's seat, his partner riding shotgun.

All Ichigo could do was lay on the cold asphalt and watch as his BMW was driven away. Now he was really starting to understand why this neighborhood had its reputation. Everything happened so suddenly he had to ask himself if it all had been a dream. He'd just been car jacked, at gun point in what was now broad daylight. If matters weren't bad enough, small, black dots started staining the road, when he felt wet drops trickle down his face it was then he realized it had begun to rain.

"Wonder-fucking-ful," Ichigo sighed, still shaking from his previous encounter. He wanted to be happy he walked away with his life, but the situation was too depressing. What was he supposed to do now? Not like he could hail a cab. Unfortunately Ichigo's wallet was zipped in his messenger bag, the same messenger bag that was in his now stolen vehicle. With little over two dollars in change in his jacket that wouldn't get him around the corner. Even if Tatsuki and Orihime hadn't left yet they wouldn't have the time to drop him home. The last thing that came to mind was a bus stop another street over, he could remember that much. Buses ran all day; it made more sense to catch a bus than walk who knows how many miles through this treacherous territory.

Ichigo hopped to his feet, zipped up his jacket and tossed up the hood, which really didn't do much at this point. His bright orange hair was drenched and clinging to his face and neck, he tried wiping his face as water ran down into his eyes. The rain had switched from a soft drizzle to heavy downpour while he laid in the road dumbfounded by the carjacking.

The robbed man huffed and sighed as he walked down the sidewalk tired, irritated and wet, still not believing what happened to him. Ichigo heard a vehicle in the distance riding up behind him, maybe the thieves were returning, he was starting to not care at this point. The vehicle didn't slow down, instead it passed by driving through a deep puddle that splashed him thoroughly with cold, filthy water.

"This shit is just unreal," Ichigo shook the arm splashed by water, as if that would make a difference.

He was almost at the corner and could see the bus stop at the end of the street. He only hoped a bus going to the other side of the city, or anywhere out of this zone would arrive soon. It seemed the day couldn't get any worse.

"I don't give a fuck 'bout yer fam, fool!"

Ichigo heard a man yell from an alleyway up ahead. "Oh great, what the fuck is going on now?" He wondered what he was about to come across. He kept his stride, the bus stop was close and he could actually see a bus rounding the corner.

"Fuck dat bitch and fuck you too!" He heard more yelling, this time it was followed by a piercing bang that rang out like a sudden crack of thunder. His body reacted to the noise and jumped abruptly.

"W-What was. . ." Whether he really wanted the answer to that or not, his feet were moving unconsciously. When he came to the opening of the alley his eyes enlarged at the picture before him. A man was slumped over against a building, a thick painting of blood trailing down the wall behind him. Above him stood a figure in dark jeans and a black hoodie holding a chrome pistol in his hand. Ichigo never heard a gun fired in real life before and it was nothing like what he heard in the movies. Seeing a dead body in real life wasn't the same either, he was frightened and sick to his stomach all at once. With nerves on edge the rain hitting his exposed skin suddenly felt like needles of ice.

The darkly clothed individual turned in Ichigo's direction, pistol still in hand. He couldn't register his face, all he saw was that gun. "Oh shit," Ichigo wanted to run but it was like his feet were rooted to the ground. Then the hoodie wearing shooter took a step in Ichigo's direction. "Move! You fucking idiot!" Fear for his life must have given him a burst of adrenaline. Ichigo took off like a sprinter in the hundred meter dash, his feet moving a pace he didn't know was possible.

Pulling to a stop, the bus was just opening its doors when the red-head made it to the corner. When he got up the first step he felt a vice-like grip on his shoulder, and before he could comprehend he found himself lying face up on the wet sidewalk, the dark clothed man he was just running from now stationed over him.

The man wore a black cap under his hoodie, the brim of which was tipped up just enough to reveal eyes like blue topaz, they were cold and sharp yet shockingly stunning. Ichigo felt frozen, the look in the man's eyes made him feel like there was a knife to his throat and he should fear for his life. Yet oddly, while feeling this way he couldn't dismiss how beautiful these same eyes were.

"Ya betta not snitch." Was all he said and walked off.

Still on the ground, Ichigo rolled over and watched as this guy saunter off in the rain.

"W-Who the hell was that?" He asked after the guy was far off in the distance. Ichigo was hoping for a change from his boring everyday life, yes, but this isn't exactly what he had in mind.

Chewing on a toothpick, the bus driver sighed, clearly annoyed. "Are ya gonna get on the bus or not?"

* * *

The two thief's fist bumped to another successful carjacking.

Now in the clear, Ikkaku pulled down his white bandana and let it sit under his chin.

"How much ya think this one's worth?" he asked, rubbing the dashboard of the freshly stolen vehicle.

"Not sure," Renji talked through the cloth covering his face before pulling the green bandana off. "Best believe we gonna find out at the end of the week." He said, driving to their designated storage unit.

"Ay Renji, you smellin' that?" Sniffing, Ikkaku was getting hit with a strange odor now that his mask was off.

"I was 'bout to ask the same thing, cuz that shit ripe." Renji said, sniffing as well.

"Smells sour," Ikkaku added.

"Nah, smells like somebody ain't wash their ass." Nose turned up, Renji looked over at his passenger.

"Fuck outta here," Ikkaku shot Renji a dirty look. "You know it ain't even me."

"For real though, what the fuck was pretty boy doin' in this bitch?"

Shaking his head, Ikkaku wondered the same thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Tatsuki sat on her porch watching the familiar faces walk up and down her block, a nod issued to those she was friendly with. When two of her acquaintances pulled up and waved her over, she stepped off the porch and jogged to the curb.

"Ay, Tatsuki, what ya up to?" Ikkaku asked, hanging from the passenger's window.

"Ain't doin' shit, but it's Friday so I'ma get fucked up later."

"Right, right, I feel ya." Ikkaku agreed like he intended to do the same.

"Stop playin' like ya'll here to conversate." Tatsuki cut to the point knowing there was another purpose to their visit. "What's good?"

Renji leaned across the divider from the driver's seat. "Gonna drop a few cars off in a bit," He told her. "We got this one a few days ago and need to know how much it's runnin' 'fore we pack it up."

"Lemme see," Tatsuki put her hand on her chin and switched to mechanic as she examined the outside of the vehicle. "Hold up, this looks like," She backed away from the car, uncertain. "Where ya'll yank this one?" She asked, sensing something familiar.

Renji shrugged. "Some dude ridin' down our block."

"What he look like?" Tatsuki drew a circle around her head and face.

"Bright ass orange ha-"

"Oh shit!" Tatsuki exclaimed, fist covering her mouth making her words sound muffled. Shaking her head, she instantly felt sorry for the orange haired man knowing he was a decent person. Even though her living as a mechanic was honest, she wasn't going to knock anyone else's hustle. At the same time, Ikkaku and Renji carjacking someone she was cool with didn't exactly sit well.

Renji nudged Ikkaku with his elbow, both of them were perplexed. "Uh, some of yer peoples, Tatsuki?" He asked.

"Yeah, he's cool. Ya'll fuck him up?"

"Course not," Ikkaku assured. "Might of scared the shit outta him, but that fool should be fine."

_"Good."_ Tatsuki thought, but still didn't feel relieved. "Yo, ya'll should lemme get this car."

"Like, get for free? I ain't feelin' that." To Ikkaku that was potential money out his pockets.

"Yer trippin', Ikkaku. Instead of stealin' cars ya need to steal some tracks for that bald ass head." With her finger she outlined his forehead where she thought a hairline should be. "I know somebody that can hook up a quick weave."

Renji flew back in his seat, clapping and laughing like he was watching a stand-up comedian. "She tryna go in!"

"Fuck you," Ikkaku grumbled, swatting her hand away, clearly not as amused as his friend.

"Keep dreamin', bruh." Tatsuki grabbed the crotch of her jeans like she had a penis and it needed to be adjusted.

"Man, just let 'er have the funky ass car." Renji didn't care about the financial loss; it wasn't as if they were hurting for money.

"Word?" Tatsuki was a little surprised, but glad. She would feel a lot better knowing she could return Ichigo's car. "Lemme call that fool, then."

* * *

 

After being robbed on Monday, Ichigo managed to make it back to his own part of the city safely. He didn't tell anyone about the shocking scene he saw in the alley. "Ya betta not snitch," was all that kept running through his mind. Those words and the eyes of the man they belonged to, it was hard keeping either out his mind. Once home, Uryu was the only person he told about the jacking ordeal. Despite being a situation out of his control, he felt embarrassed he couldn't do more to defend himself. Only reason Uryu was made aware of the situation was so he could secure a ride to campus and still attended classes.

"I'm just saying, you could have done something other than just let them take your car." Frowning behind the wheel of his own vehicle, Uryu had been scolding his friend the entire ride.

"We've went through this already, they both had guns." Ichigo huffed, he couldn't recall how many times Uryu and he already had this conversation. "What the hell was I supposed to do? It's not like I could transform into a super saiyan, real life isn't like those Dragon Ball animes you love, nerd."

"Be glad this nerd was kind enough to drive you around all week and is willing to drive you to this terrible neighborhood so you can pick up your car."

"Yeah, I owe ya one." Ichigo patted his friend on the shoulder.

Uryu's frown began to dissipate. "Just so you know."

Regardless of how their relationship appeared, Ichigo knew Uryu would do almost anything for him and vise versa. The arguing just comes with the package; it was simply the mix of personalities. Over the course of their friendship, Ichigo learned how to tune out most of Uryu's nagging, but he was slightly on edge today and couldn't gather the concentration necessary to press Uryu's mute button. After learning firsthand how dangerous this part of the city is, it could prove worthwhile to be more alert to the happenings around him.

"Ichigo, am I going the right way?" This would be Uryu's first time crossing the tracks. His father always forbade him to get anywhere near this part of town, even as an adult.

"Yeah, just keep straight."

Ichigo certainly wasn't getting used to the surroundings, but he wasn't surprised to see loads of people hanging around the streets like they were having a block party. Far larger groups than his last visit, but that was understandable, it was Friday and closer to early evening, not dawn like last time.

"What are all these people doing out here?" Uryu asked.

"Socializing?" Ichigo returned with a question of his own, not like he really knew.

Uryu continued to drive while genuinely curious about his surroundings, eyes shifting left and right while also trying to occupy the road. Operating a crystal blue, XJL Jaguar Supersport, he got treatment similar to Ichigo's, yelling coming off the corners when he rode by.

"What is this animal like howling? Ichigo, is there something you're not telling me?" Uryu felt like his friend was keeping him in the dark.

"How am I supposed to know?" Ichigo shrugged, "Maybe it means they like what you're driving."

"What are you saying?" Uryu's snapped his head in Ichigo's direction. "Am I a target for their criminal activity?"

"No! Pay attention, you idiot!"

Uryu looked back to the road in time to mash the breaks and keep from crashing into the tail end of a red truck. The truck was stopped in the middle of their lane, loud music blasting from the trunk.

"What is going on here?" Uryu pointed to a man wearing a red t-shirt, white Nikes and jean shorts sagged so low they reveled most of his boxers. The man danced to the music in the middle of the street, dipping left and right in a two-step while dangling the big, silver medallion around his neck. Assuming the man hadn't seen them, Uryu lowered his window enough to stick his head out. "Excuse me," He said, but no one took notice. Becoming frustrated, he blew his horn until getting the attention he wanted.

The street dancer turned around and looked Uryu right in the face. -" _Got a condo on my wrist girl, I'm cashin' out. Got a condo 'round my neck girl, I'm cashin' out."-_ He continued to dance while singing the chorus of the song, knowing, but not caring he was blocking the road.

"Just drive around," Ichigo suggested, when neither the car nor the man showed any signs they would be moving. Looking over at Uryu, he tried to stifle a laugh, his friend's face was twisted with the utmost confusion. Ichigo could understand, you would never see a sight like this where they lived. Nonetheless, the expressions on his face were every bit humorous.

Driving around the performance, Uryu could only shake his head. "Make your dealings on this end brief."

At their destination, several cars stationed in front of Tatsuki's home made it impossible for another to find space.

"Park over there," Ichigo directed, pointing across the street. "Wait here while I go talk to Tatsuki." He told his driver.

"Are you insane?" Uryu was now giving Ichigo the confused looks. "I'm not going to sit out here alone."

"Fine, come on then."

Entry way wide open, Ichigo walked right in and greeted Tatsuki who was sitting behind the door.

"Sup, Tatsuki,"

"Wow, it's rude to walk into someone's home without invitation." Uryu criticized from outside the doorway. Ichigo threw his hand up and waved him off.

"Daps," Tatsuki held out her fist in front of the red-head, Ichigo only stood there looking at her as if he didn't understand what that meant. "Oh, that's right," The woman chuckled. She had to keep in mind Ichigo was from the _other_ side of the tracks. "Sup, Orange," Ichigo was now being addressed by a new nickname.

" _Orange?"_ Ichigo knew Tatsuki didn't mean any harm, but he wasn't exactly found of a nickname based on his hair color. As far back as he could remember the only instance where someone made mention of his hair was in an effort to crack a joke. Even though he was an adult now, and wasn't so easily bothered, a nickname like that wouldn't exactly bring back fond memories.

"Who that on my porch?" Tatsuki asked, leaning to the side trying to see behind Ichigo.

"That's my friend, Uryu."

"Ay bruh, yer allowed in, ain't nobody in here gonna stick ya up." Tatsuki told the porch straggler.

Once invited, Uryu stepped inside. "I wouldn't be so sure by the looks of these people." he said under his breath, peaking over Ichigo's shoulders at the inhabitants.

The woman who invited him in dressed in baggy, blue jeans, black, ankle-high Timberland boots and a black tee, her dark hair hidden under a black cap. Two men were in Tatsuki's living room having a conversation. One of them leaning against the wall, very tall and build slim wearing a white, sleeveless T-shirt, white and black basketball shorts and black Adidas slides over black socks. There was a rolled, white bandana covering his left eye, an eyebrow piercing over his right and a backwards, black, fitted cap covered shoulder-length black hair. The other male sat on the couch; he looked like a fairly big guy, tall, but definitely not as tall as the other, and far more sturdily build compared to his string bean friend. He wore a dark gray, form fitting t-shirt over a nicely built chest and broad shoulders, a pair of black jeans and black with white trim Nike's on his feet. A mess of sky blue hair peaked from the back of a dark gray fitted, the brim down over his eyes.

The voice of the seated guy had Ichigo's attention; he couldn't place it, but he definitely heard it before. Maybe the man could feel eyes focused on him, but for whatever reason the man turned around and adjusted his cap to look at the red-head staring him down.

"I-," Completely thrown, Ichigo could hardly verbalize the shock. "I can't believe it's you," He muttered, pointing a finger at the blue haired man. He knew that voice was familiar, but it was the eyes that made him recognizable. Although they didn't exhibit the high degree of threat he remembered, they were positively identified. This fellow was one of three people from Ichigo's dreadful Monday who ensured that day secure a spot on his list of "The worst fucking days of my life." This one in particular was the guy that pulled him off the bus after he stumbled upon the stomach-turning imagery left after a violent shooting.

"Who that?" The tall, dark-haired guy asked his blue-haired friend. The man responded with something inaudible from Ichigo's distance then turned back around and continued his conversation.

Ichigo felt nervous and knew he couldn't be thinking too clearly, but worked up the nerve to step over to the couch anyway. His impulsion to tell this killer he was no snitch outweighed all logical thinking.

"Hey, about what I saw the other day," Ichigo looked off to the side when the other made eye contact; those eyes were every bit unnerving. Then actually stopping to think for a moment, _"Wait, what the hell am I doing?"_ He asked himself since he didn't think the rest of his words through. A heavy wind of common sense must have passed by to blow away the thick cloud of idiocy clouding his brain. He was in a room full of people and just mentioned the other day.

The blue haired man kept his eyes on Ichigo then stood and approached him, face expressionless. As he got closer Ichigo backed away, fear written all over his face. He kept moving backwards until he found himself trapped against the wall, face to face with a killer.

Electric blue eyes looked down at the shorter man, "Somethin' 'bout the other day?" His voice was deep and intimidating.

"I didn't," From the anxiety a lump formed in Ichigo's throat making a proper response difficult.

"You ain't what?" He demanded, sounding more irritated than before.

As much as Ichigo wished he hadn't said anything at all, his mouth sometimes worked faster than his brain and best he could do was just follow through. "I didn't say anything." He finally managed.

"Ok Grimm, I see ya over there tryna mack!" His dark-haired friend implied, laughing.

The blue eyed man looked off to the side and sucked his teeth. "Man, there he go wid that shit." His expression no longer indifferent but a mixture of annoyed and amused. "Ay," He slammed his large hand down on Ichigo's shoulder, the same shoulder he grabbed when he threw him to the cement. Ichigo tried to conceal the flinch, he had no idea what was going on. "You ain't say nothin', right? So we cool."

"Aight then," Tatsuki stepped in. "Now that everybody's cool, how about 'bout we all sit the fuck down and chill, yeah?"

"Best believe," Blue hair agreed and stepped out the door to sit on the porch steps, Ichigo watching him as he went.

Uryu had been worriedly watching from the door, but almost ran to Ichigo when the exchange of words ended and the blue-haired ruffian walked in his direction. "He looks like a lunatic." Uryu whispered in Ichigo's ear, eyeing the man now sitting outdoors. "When are you going to get the keys so we can get out of h-"

"Didn't Tats say sit down?" Karin cut in. Engrossed in what just happend, Ichigo hadn't noticed his sister. "You two fools still standin' in the middle of the floor lookin' like a Gap commercial."

"Bwahahaha!" The man leaning against the wall burst out laughing. "Rin, you crazy as hell."

"I know you're not referring to me. It's Ralph Lauren, actually." Uryu corrected, catching an attitude. He wore slim fit, sand-colored chinos rolled at the ankle, a pink and white striped rugby and white dock shoes. Ichigo wore his charcoal-colored board shorts, white and gray polo and corduroy, slip on sneakers. Uryu shot a glare at the man who found Karin's comment so hilarious.

He noticed, "There a reason why yer lookin' at me like that?" He asked.

"Is there a reason why you're wearing socks with sandals?" Uryu sassed, hands on his hips.

"Uryu, I wouldn't," Ichigo didn't know where his friend was going, but he wanted to stop him before he got there. They didn't know that man, and if his association was with blue eyes he could be dangerous.

Uryu ignored Ichigo, "That contradiction of footwear looks absolutely ridiculous."

Ichigo hid his face in his palm; Great job, Uryu, he must of been working towards getting them both killed.

The bandana wearing man gave Uryu a "Really, though?" look then burst out in laughter again.

"Ay, Glasses yer funny, I like you." He plopped on the couch and patted the spot next to him. "Come sit,"

Uryu certainly didn't mean the statement as a joke; it was surprising it were taken as such. Regardless, he would be in denial if he didn't admit he found the man somewhat attractive, ridiculous dress or not. Tall men always caught his attention and this one's bandana made him kind of mysterious. The combination was interesting.

"The name is Uryu, not Glasses." He said, shuffling over to the couch and taking a seat.

"Nice to meet ya, Uryu, I'm Nnoitra." He introduced himself, grinning like he didn't have good sense.

It was a surprising exchange between the two. Ichigo was just glad it didn't turn out as bad as he expected.

"Get out their business," Karin playfully punched her brother on his arm. "I should kick yer ass," She said trailing off to the kitchen.

"Kick whose ass?" Ichigo laughed at his little sister.

"Yours, idiot." Her voice faded when she leaned into a cupboard and started digging until retrieving a bag of potato chips. "Could of told me ya got robbed."

"It was none of your concern." Ichigo was adamant about never involving his family in his problems.

"Knew you'd say that." She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I'ma get back to playin' Wii with Orihime." Karin disappeared down a hall." Be sure to thank Tatsuki!" She yelled from whatever room she was occupying.

"She acts like she lives here, how do ya put up with her?"

"Man, you know how Rin is, it's all good though." Tatsuki smiled. "Lemme get the keys to your ride." She said and walked off to another part of the house.

Ichigo found himself looking out the door at the blue haired man casually sitting and handling his cell phone. What was he doing here at Tatsuki's anyway? Is this the kind of friends she keeps, or was she unaware he was a killer? Looks can obviously be deceiving because from here he looked like a normal person. Or maybe he was a normal person and the shooting was a one time occurrence? Then again shooting someone at all wasn't normal, unless it was self defense. Although that was doubtfully the scenario since he went out his way to chase down an eyewitness demanding they not "snitch". Ichigo pressed his temples with his index fingers and slowly shook his head. Too many questions he couldn't match to answers. All that thinking did nothing but make his curiosities about the man grow.

"Orange, ya gonna snap back to reality?"

Ichigo hadn't even noticed Tatsuki's return "What?"

"I see ya checkin' 'im out. His boy, Nnoitra, is bi," Tatsuki nodded her head over towards the couch occupied by the dark haired males. "But Grimmjow, he's straight."

"I never asked all that." Embarrassed, a blush brought color to Ichigo's cheeks. "And I don't like when people call me Orange." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. Truthfully, he was more bothered by Tatsuki mistaking his observing as interest, than by the nickname. What made her think he cared what this Grimmjow person was or wasn't?

"Somebody's mad," Tatsuki denoted. "Here," she dangled a group of keys by their metal ring in front of Ichigo's face.

"Thanks," Ichigo murmured. Over the phone Tatsuki seemed reluctant to discuss how she secured his car, so Ichigo wouldn't question her about it again.

"Ayyo!" Someone hollered all of a sudden prompting Ichigo and Tatsuki both to look out towards the streets.

A black, Dodge charger rolled to a stop directly beside Ichigo's coupe, two people sitting in the front. The passenger of the vehicle, who was lazily hanging half out the window, was the culprit of the outburst. Grimmjow rose off the porch and took his time strolling to their car. Once there he got comfortable on Ichigo BMW and engaged the two in the charger.

"Anyway, Prep," Tatsuki resumed with Ichigo's old nickname. "I'ma go see what's up with these fools." When Tatsuki went out the door Ichigo tagged along, he figured, might as well.

"What's good, Shinji?" Tatsuki addressed a blond in the passenger's seat.

"Yo, Tats," Said the blond.

"Ay, Chad," She waved to the driver.

"Hey," The Driver spoke, voice quiet and deep.

Ichigo was sticking his neck out trying to see inside the car. The passenger was a blond with a jaw-length, bob cut and asymmetrical bang slanted over his left, wheat-brown eye. He wore a blue and white cap tilted high off his forehead and a white and blue t-shirt from what Ichigo could see. His face was stretched in a wide, toothy grin as he talked to Tatsuki. The driver had on a black, plaid button down. He was caramel complexion with dark brown, wavy hair, chocolate brown eyes, and had black, studded snake bites under his lip.

"What do we got here?" Shinji asked, pointing to Ichigo.

"Oh, that's Rin's brother, Ichigo. Ichigo, that's Shinji and Chad." Tatsuki did the introductions. "And Grimmjow, I guess ya'll already know each other."

"Sup," Ichigo greeted the men in the car then looked over at Grimmjow who was watching him with an arched brow. "Yeah, him," Ichigo felt awkward just looking in his direction.

"Yeah, him?" Grimmjow scowled. "What's that 'posed to mean?" He left his perch on Ichigo's car and walked around to the red-head, getting in his face again. He was so close that the brim of his cap rested against Ichigo's forehead.

" _Shit! Did I offend him? Great job!"_ Ichigo sarcastically congratulated himself.

"Yer talkin' 'bout me like I'm irrelevant. Ya got any idea as to who the fuck I am?" Grimmjow talked like he was amused, but the look on his face read as otherwise. Ichigo stood his ground; he refused to back down a second time, although the bewildered look plastered across his face told he wasn't as tough as he was pretending to be.

"Ya'll gonna kiss, or what the fuck ya doin'?" Nnoitra must have come from inside the house, because that's who the remark came from.

"Fuck off, Nnoi." Grimmjow scoffed out the side of his mouth, eyes steady on Ichigo. "Nah, I'm just foolin' wid ya." He gave a barely there smile and went back to the charger, this time hanging around the driver's side.

"He only fucks wid ya 'cause he knows yer scared." Nnoitra laughed while rocking towards the middle of the street as if dancing to some imaginary music. "Who goin' to the club tonight?"

"You know I'ma be in the club." Tatsuki threw her arms in air dancing to the same imaginary music as Nnoitra. "You should come, Prep, and bring yer friend."

"Uh, " Clubs? Yeah, that really wasn't Ichigo's scene.

"Grimm got us VIP," Nnoitra added

Grimmjow would be there? That bit of information should have been the deciding factor in a decision not to go. Getting mixed up with people like him couldn't be good for ones health.

"Maybe if Uryu came, but I know he won't go, so I'll pass." Ichigo tried to base his excuse around his friend.

"How do you know where I don't want to go, Ichigo?"

So much for staying alert, he didn't know Uryu was right behind him. "When'd you get here?" Ichigo asked, surprised.

"I've been here, simpleton."

Nnoitra tipped out the street and proceeded to put his arm around Uryu's shoulders. "Yer gonna come chill wid me at the club, right?"

Uryu's face turned a light shade of carnation. "I suppose I'll go if Ichigo accompanies me." He threw a glower at his orange haired friend.

Ichigo knew what that look meant "Say yes, or regret it later." Uryu knew how to stand at just the right angle to catch dark reflections off one lens of his glasses while his visible eye narrowed in a deadly glare that spoke louder than any verbal threat.

Ichigo couldn't back out now. "I guess we're going then."

"So that settles it. If I may, what kind of club is this?" Uryu inquired.

"Maaaan, you know how we do!" Tatsuki gave Nnoitra a fist pound, they both then started laughing.

"OK, but that's telling me absolutely nothing." said Uryu.

"It's called Knockturnal, and it be hype as fuck. Friday's the better night to go cus it don't be shoulder to shoulder packed. Grimm and 'em like to chill in V.I.P, but I like to be on the floor."

_-And this the life we chose, Workin' all night Swear I'm never going broke, And I'mma do this till I die,_ _And I ain't talking shit just cause I'm, just cause I'm (I'm High)-_ Grimmjow's pocket sang until he dug out his phone and answered. He engaged in a brief conversation, the person on the other end seemed to do most of the talking.

"Nnoi, we out, got work to do." Grimmjow said after disconnecting the call. "I'll get at ya'll later." Blue eyes roamed over the group. For a moment Ichigo's eye's meet his, it felt kind of strange being included in "ya'll".

"I'ma look for ya tonight, Uryu." Nnoitra squeezed the smaller man's arm then walked with Grimmjow over to the Hummer.

"Aight Prep, I'll text the directions to yer cell. Be breezy." Tatsuki went back inside her house.

The Hummer and Charger pulled off leaving Ichigo free to get in his coupe. He slid in the familiar seat and exhaled happily. He didn't even care that he was being slapped with a nasty, marinated musk. He missed his car, having it back was most important and once he got it cleaned it would be good as new.

"Uryu," Ichigo yelled out the window. "I'm going to get my car cleaned, so I'll meet ya back at the house."

Uryu nodded his response from his Jag and with that everyone was headed in their respective locations.

* * *

 

Nnoitra slouched in the driver's seat of his truck; he really didn't feel like making this drive.

"What we gotta do anyway?" He asked his blue-haired passenger.

"Hell if I know, ain't like I'm told shit on the phone."

It was a drag driving out to Antiquated, the base of drug operations fronted as a thrift shop. The shop was located in a barren area, on the back of a long, dirt road thirty minutes away from the city. Their boss preferred quiet areas, but the main reason for the seclusion was the convenience it provided when her connections tipped her off to a raid. She wouldn't hesitate to clean house and blow up the entire building.

"I hate these dusty ass back roads," Nnoitra complained. "Now I'm gotta take my shit through the wash 'fore we hit the club."

"The fuck for? Lemme find you yer tryna impress them thirsty bitches." Grimmjow looked at Nnoitra a suspiciously.

"Nah, the red-heads friend. He rolled up in a Jag and that jawn was fresh."

"So, yer feelin' dude?"

Nnoitra nodded. "Yeah, he seem cool."

"OK fam, do you." Grimmjow said in support.

"The red-head looked aight," A devilish grin stretched across Nnoitra's face. "Maybe I can hook ya- "

"Fuck outta here," Grimmjow's brows squeezed in a tight glower, he cut his friend off before he could finish already knowing where he was going with the trollish comment.

Nnoitra sniggered while trying to resist the urge to look over at his passenger; he could just imagine the look on Grimm's face. Even though Grimmjow was straight, he wasn't the least bit uncomfortable around his bisexual best friend, nor did he ever take the jokes too seriously. It would take far more than a few gay jokes to create a rift in the seventeen year friendship. Plus, his stance was who you fucked was your own business, anyone else's opinions didn't matter.

Nnoitra didn't bother to neatly situate his truck behind one of the parking stump lined in front the store, he stopped in the middle of the empty lot to park his truck. The bell atop the glass door chimed when the two men entered the shop. They cut through wide aisles of used clothes and shoes until reaching and opening the wooden door where their boss was typically located. The spacious room was faintly lit and filled with clouds of smoke. Relaxed in a reclining seat and smoking with feet perched on her metal table, Kukaku set her pipe down when the two entered the room.

"When will you learn how to knock?" She ran a hand though long, messy, black hair and sighed, adjusting the collar on her red robe.

To be a smartass, Grimmjow reached around and tapped his knuckles on the outside of the already open door.

"You've been asking him that since he was a child. You know Grimmjow's disrespectful ass will never change." Said a woman's voice from the shadows.

"Sup, Yoruichi. I knew you were here, I can feel ya creepin' and shit." Grimmjow squinted his eyes trying to see into the darker parts of the room. He managed to make out two, honey colored eyes before they faded back into the darkness.

"Better stop messing with my bodyguard, Grimm. You know she can snap you like a twig." Kukaku warned in a teasing tone.

"So, what ya got for us, Auntie K?" Nnoitra cut through the small talk.

"Simple pick up and drop off, nothing too complicated." Kukaku told him. "I know how you both hate complicated."

"Damn right. Yer dope boy from Monday had me runnin' through alleys in the rain. Got mud all over my Nikes, had to throw them bitches out." Grimmjow recalled the task Kukaku gave him on Monday where he had to take care of one of their dealers who was smoking more than he was selling.

"Stop complaining. After this job you can buy a new pair. Here," Kukaku reached under the table and picked up a black briefcase to slide across the table. "You know who gets this, take it to him and keep the envelope he gives you." She instructed.

"Cool, cool, we on it." Grimmjow grabbed the briefcase by its handle and went behind Nnoitra who already was heading out the door.

"Watch each other's backs." Kukaku yelled after them.

"We will," Both men said in unison.

Kukaku was the closest thing to a mother figure either of the men ever knew in their life. She raised Nnoitra from a infant after his father, her brother, was killed and his mother gave birth to him in prison while severing a life term, both drug and murder related incidents. Grimmjow's mother was a friend who had trouble keeping away from cocaine and ultimately left her child when he was about eight. Kukaku took the boy in and decided to raise him with her same aged nephew like brothers. Being raised by a drug lord wasn't the safest of environments, but she thought it was a better option than throwing the boys in the system. She kept them away from her lifestyle best she could until they were eighteen and free to make their own decisions. Even after they were adults she objected to them dealing in her affairs, encouraging honest work. They both protested and insisted they were right where they wanted to be. They didn't look like a conventional family, but their bonds made them exactly that.

* * *

Songs: Ca$h Out - Cashin Out

Chris Brown Feat Big Sean & Wiz Khalifa – Till I Die


	3. Chapter 3

From the directions, Ichigo knew to look for Tatsuki outside the club. In the parking lot a large, white Hummer was the only SUV of its type and stood out among the smaller cars; he drove over to it hoping to see a familiar face.

"What's good?" Luckily Tatsuki was indeed near the truck, but standing alone. "There's spots over there, we 'bout to head in." She said, pointing to an empty space a few cars down.

When Ichigo and Uryu returned to the Hummer on foot, the vehicles occupants were out standing around waiting. The first thing Ichigo noticed was Grimmjow, hands hooked in his jeans and looking off into the distance. After continually telling himself he only agreed to go clubbing because Uryu would make his living situation hell if he didn't, he kept wondering if there were other reasons why he really agreed to go.

"Ok fresh, I see ya'll." Tatsuki danced a circle around the two, brushing off their shoulders and approving of their new outfits.

Uryu changed into black, skinny jeans, a grape, sleeveless, hooded shirt with cerulean stars exploding all over it, a short sleeve, cerulean shirt under that and on his feet a pair of black, purple and blue canvas Converse. Go into Uryu's closet and you'll find dozens of customized sneakers, he kept shoes to match anything. He even switched his silver, rectangular framed glasses for blue, circular ones. Ichigo insisted his friend was doing entirely too much; Uryu looked at Ichigo's outfit and told him the opposite saying he wasn't doing enough, but did give him credit for at least matching. Ichigo was dressed in a white and blue graphic polo, blue, plaid chino shorts and a pair of white Vans.

The other group was "fresh" as well. Tatsuki wore canary yellow cargo shorts, a black, graphic t-shirt with yellow scrip across the front and black on yellow Coogi high-top sneakers. Nnoitra, who was already on Uryu like white on rice, rocked blue, white with orange trimmed Nike's, dark wash, close fit denims, slightly sagged off his waist, an orange and blue t-shirt, blue bandana over his left eye and a backwards, orange fitted cap. Grimmjow, unaware that Ichigo's eyes were stuck on him, wore a tan thermal with sleeves rolled to the elbow, blue jeans, tan Radii's on his feet and a black fitted cap with a suede brim and tan lettering.

"Aight, lets head in." Tatsuski said, trotting to the entrance **.**

"That line is really long." Uryu noticed, referring to the string of people at the door and wrapped around the side of the building.

"Don't worry 'bout that, we ain't waitin' in no line." Nnoitra assured.

There were two bouncers standing at both sides of the door, no words needed to be exchanged and one of them unhooked a red rope blocking off the entrance. They made their way inside the faintly lit club, strobe lights on the ceiling periodically highlighted certain areas making the layout more visible. There was a long stage in front of the dance floor, a bar next to it and couches lined the walls.

Stalking through the club, people began to cheer as Grimmjow and Nnoitra passed. Swarms of women who acted like groupies yelled their names, Grimmjow's in particular, trying to get his attention. The D.J. took notice, "They lovin' the crew," She sang over the speakers and switched the currently playing track.

 _-"Take your nose off my keyboard_  
What you botherin' me for?  
There's a room full of ni**as!  
What you following me for?  
This ain't no fuckin' sing-along,  
So girl what you singing for?  
It's cus we blowing like a C4  
Got my whole crew blowing like a C4"-

Ichigo had to admit he was impressed to see so many people reacting this way. It was like being the entourage of a well-known celebrity. Even though his first impressions of the thug weren't the greatest, if he was this well liked maybe he wasn't that bad.

"You sure are the popular one." Uryu said, looking at the crowd.

"I guess," Nnoitra carelessly shrugged.

That same moment, a woman boldly danced over to the group, throwing her hands in the air shouting, "Ay!" Ichigo knew it had to be another girl trying to get Grimmjow's attention, but to his surprise she gyrated towards him instead, gripped his pants and started thrusting her hips back on him.

"Get it Prep! Broadcast swag!" Tatsuki hooted, cracking up at the sight.

Ichigo was surprised and a little disgusted not understanding what this woman's deal was. He had no idea who she was, yet she was doing some strange dance on him. He started to push her away when a hand gripped his arm and detached him from the dancer.

"Ichigo, what are you doing?" Uryu asked, releasing the grasp. Ichigo turned around to find his friend giving him a sideways glare. He would've snapped at the man for dragging him across the floor like that, but he was actually thankful Uryu pulled him away. He stuck close to his friend while all five of them shifted and turned past the club goers making way to a set of stairs blocked off by another rope and big bodied bouncer.

"Nnoitra, what's good man?"

"Yammy, sup fam," He greeted the bouncer and participated with in what looked like a very complicated handshake.

"Go ahead," Lifting the rope, Yammy gave them access to the stairs, nodding at Nnoitra, Tatsuki and Grimmjow as they went up. "Hold on," He held his arm out when he got to Uryu and Ichigo, who brought up the rear of the line.

"Hold on indeed. You don't look too clean, so get your hand out of my face." Uryu demanded, not understanding why they were just stopped.

"Where do you think yer going?" Yammy looked the two up and down suspiciously.

"Yo," Grimmjow tapped him on the shoulder. "It's cool, they wid me,"

"Oh, ok then," Yammy lowered his hand and let them pass.

At the top of the stairs, two white doors sat in their path and they entered another section of the club. The area was secluded, with its own bar and a balcony. White loveseats with navy pillows lined the room and short, square, metal tables were in front of each section of chairs. Nnoitra went straight for the bar. Taking two cups and several bottles he started mixing drinks.

"Ay Grimm, you got me?" Tatsuki held her hand in front the blue-haired man. Grimmjow dug in his pockets, passing what he retrieved to the dark-haired woman. "Cool, cool. Ya'll antisocial asses can stay here, I'ma hit the floor," She said, enthusiastically returning through the two white doors leaving the four men.

"Nah, right behind ya. Uryu, you drink?" Nnoitra shoved a cup containing a pink colored liquid in his face, not giving him a chance to answer. "Taste this,"

Uryu accepted the liquor but looked at it with uncertainty. "Mind telling me what's in this exactly?"

"Just taste it," Nnoitra insisted and waited for Uryu to take a sip. "Good, right?" Uryu nodded his head in agreement. The tall man grabbed another drink of the same color off the bar with one hand, and grabbed Uryu by his arm with the other. "Come on,"

"Wait a minute, where are you taking me?" Being dragged away, Uryu looked over at Ichigo like he was supposed to offer some sort of help. Ichigo tossed his hand up and waved with a crooked smile, he had no intentions of intervening in that. The second those doors shut he started wishing he maybe had said something. With those two gone, Grimmjow was the only one left and he was hesitant to be left alone with him.

"I ain't antisocial, I just like to chill wid out jawns bein' down my fuckin' throat, feel me?" Grimmjow turned to Ichigo, shaking his head like he expected him to absolutely agree. Ichigo looked down at the floor and shook his head "yes", not quite understanding what he just agreed with but agreed anyway. Last thing he needed was this crazy acting man to jump in his face again. "This yer first time in V.I.P.?" With a joint resting in the corner of this mouth, Grimmjow fished for his lighter.

Ichigo has heard of such things, but before tonight he wasn't sure what V.I.P. was since he's never been to a dance club. So yes, this was his first time and he gave another nod as response. He didn't understand why Grimmjow was trying to engage him in conversation; out the corner of his eye he could see the man was starting to look aggravated like the talk was forced. If he didn't feel like talking that was fine by Ichigo. This was no less awkward than their interactions before, if anything, even more so uncomfortable because they were alone.

"Somethin' wrong wid yer mouth?" Grimmjow asked, brow quirked while watching the red-head.

That caught Ichigo off guard and he looked at the other male. "My mouth? No, why do y-"

Grimmjow grunted and cut off him off mid sentence. "Then open yer trap and respond when I talk to ya, got it?" He ordered, sounding like a scolding parent. "The bar's right there if ya fucks wid liquor," He followed up in a tone less aggressive.

"T-Thanks," Ichigo replied feeling slightly stupid. From Grimmjow's point of view he was must have been coming off as rude, which could be the reason for his look of aggravation. He felt like an uptight idiot, too stuck on everything they went through earlier to realize maybe Grimmjow was just trying to make him comfortable.

"Relax, I ain't gonna bite." Grimmjow reassured the red-head while gently blowing smoke in his direction.

"I know." Ichigo said chuckling faintly. He had to laugh at himself for being the true cause of their tension. As long he didn't get any more involved in what Grimmjow did, or mention that Monday, everything should be fine, right? He had to stop acting so suspect, the man already said they were cool. Right now he should be focusing on trying to enjoy this new experience.

Now bobbing his head and getting into the music, Grimmjow left the room and walked through the blue drapes leading to the balcony. Ichigo wasn't sure whether to stay or follow, but opted to follow as deciding to stay in the room alone could be misinterpreted as fishy behavior. The spread of the club was visible from the balcony and chairs situated near the rails let one sit and watch the crowd. Ichigo took one of those seats while Grimmjow stood, leaning against the railing.

"- _She like to do it wid the lights on, don't matter to me if it's dark or not, I'm G'd up, east up. Fossil pants. I'm hard as rock.-"_ Grimmjow rapped the lyrics to Kirko Bangz – "Drank In My Cup", body moving to the beat and hands flowing with his words. He wasn't dancing, but the way his body swayed caught Ichigo's attention.

"Look," Grimmjow yelled, deep voice still audible over the loud music. "There go yer friend." He said, pointing at the lower level of the club and taking a seat next to Ichigo.

Ichigo looked down to the dance floor and spotted Nnoitra behind his friend swinging his hips back and forth on the shorter man's backside. Uryu looked very uncomfortable and downright goofy like he had no clue what he was doing. He tried to dance with Nnoitra, but his body was moving all off beat from the music. Total face palm moment. Ichigo felt embarrassed for him, Uryu probably had no idea he was making a fool out of himself.

"They gettin' it," Grimmjow implied sarcastically, starring at the awkward, glasses wearing man, brows arched with an amused grin spreading across his face. Ichigo watched his lips pull in what seemed like the perfect angle. He had a nice smile, and it was contagious too; Ichigo couldn't help but find himself grinning as well.

"Yeah," He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

The song changed and the club seemed to get excited. People left the couches and bar to join the floor, some holding up drinks like a cheers to the track. With help from the strobe lights Ichigo could easily spot Tatsuki in her bright yellow.

 _-I'm in my zone,_  
Damn near got my eyes closed,  
One shot, two shots,  
I'm gone.  
Now we gon' get fucked up  
No excuses no apologies.-

She was definitely in her _zone,_ she didn't have a drink, but held that lit kush high. Her other arm was wrapped around the waist of a girl who rocked her hips to the beat against Tatsuki's body. The amount of girls dancing on girls and guys dancing on guys was almost even with the number of men dancing with woman. This wasn't a gay club, but the type of place you could chill however you wanted. Everyone there just wanted to have a good time.

The awkward dance scene between Uryu and Nnoitra ended and they were both sitting to the bar, Uryu seemed to be downing shots from what Ichigo could see. There were other things on his mind though, as he turned attention back to the blue-haired man next to him. Like a pro, Grimmjow took a pull off his joint, inhaling briefly then letting smoke roll off full, sexy lips. Ichigo had to laugh at himself for the second time that night once noticing he kept looking in Grimmjow's direction. He was aware the man had nice eyes, but it seemed only now he was noticing how attractive the entire face was.

"You smoke?" Grimmjow asked, holding the joint in front of Ichigo's face.

Ichigo was so busy staring at the man's ravishing features that he hardly noticed the question. He couldn't help himself; it was really hard to take his eyes off him.

"Ay Orange, you good?" Grimmjow tilted his head to the side; eyes narrowed looking at the red-head in confusion.

"Uh, yeah," Ichigo was embarrassed he was caught staring. He accepted the offered weed from the other and took light puffs not wanting to overdo it. He didn't want to catch another coughing spell like the one at Tatsuki's, now that would really be humiliating. A sideways smirk caught his attention when he pulled the herb away from his mouth.

"Aight Orange, I see you" Grimmjow nodded his head in approval.

Ichigo felt lost, that smile mixed with those eyes sent a startling shocking chill down his spine. He passed the herb back and whipped his head in the other direction; he couldn't continue looking at that face. Yeah, there was no denying he felt some kind of attraction towards him. Ichigo shot a glance out the corner of his eye, maybe just one more look. Grimmjow's focus had already roamed elsewhere, he held his cell phone while blue eyes wandered the club. What was he looking for?

Whether he found what he was looking for or not, the song playing was enough to pull him from his chair and back to the railing. "This my shit,"

 _-She say she wanna take her skirt of,_  
Be my guest!  
I decided to take my shirt off,  
And show my chest!  
And we been sipping on that Merlot,  
So you know what's next!  
Working intermissions, switching positions,  
We so explicit!-

Grimmjow lifted his thermal to his neck revealing a chiseled, six-pack abdomen and hard, defined pectorals. It was a canvas for various designs of the inked nature. Tattoos covered at least seventy-five percent of the incredible body in what was nothing other than a work of art. Like a Chippendale, he sensually rolled his body while thrusting his hips to the song's hook. Girls on the bottom level screamed and clapped their hands accordingly; you'd think they were watching the lead exotic dancer at a strip show. If in range they probably would have tossed money at the stud.

" _Wow,"_ Ichigo thought. How could he not be turned on by such a sight? He was memorized, that body was something ridiculous and the way he moved it stirred a heat in his lower region. Ichigo's face turned a bright pink; it was becoming harder to hide his attraction to the thug. How could he be attracted to a man like this? It was something more than the physical allure, but Ichigo couldn't figure out what made him so intriguing. He possessed something different than the guys from his side of the tracks. Did he have what they called swag? Whatever it was, Ichigo was being drawn to it.

"What a body." Ichigo hadn't even realized he was speaking out loud.

"Jealous?" Grimmjow said dropping his shirt and smiling smugly.

Did he really think that's why Ichigo was starring? "Yeah…" Ichigo lied.

"I keep my shit tight." He said patting his stomach.

When a loud beating on the door sounded over the music, both men looked pass the drapes. Grimmjow stepped through them and went to the door. The bouncer, Yammy, was on the other side and they exchanged a few words. When the conversation ceased, the door was closed and Grimmjow sat on a couch.

"Orange, come 'er" He called the male over.

Ichigo nearly jumped out his seat at the commanding nature of the voice. "Yeah?" He answered, stepping past the drapes.

"These jawns 'bout to come through, I'm tryna see what's good."

"Oh," Ichigo didn't know what a "jawn" was; he wondered if it was some sort of slang for drugs. "You want me to leave?"

"Nah, yer cool." He said, nodding his head at the empty spot on the couch indicating he wanted him to have a seat.

Ichigo sat on the same loveseat as Grimmjow, keeping his head straight not wanting to look at the other man knowing he could break out in another blush. Although avoiding blushing might be difficult, the image of him rolling his body like some taunting sex god was probably forever etched in his mind. When the rooms doors swung open he looked to see two girls walk in. One with forest-green eyes and short, spiky blonde hair, wearing a white, skin-tight pants suit with a black belt and black heals. The other had long, black pigtails, fuchsia colored eyes and she wore a tiny, white skirt with thigh-high, black boots and a black, corset top.

" _Is jawns what they called girls around here, or were they delivering the drugs?"_ Ichigo wondered.

"Sup Loly," Grimmjow spoke to one of the girls. The dark haired female took that as her queue and walked over, sitting in his lap.

"What took ya so long to let us up?" She smiled, trying to be cute, pulling her ponytail over her shoulder and twirling the black tresses around her finger.

Grimmjow ignored her and looked at her blonde friend. "Menoly, say sup to Orange."

The blonde took it upon herself to plop herself on Ichigo's lap. "Hey, Orange,"

Ichigo resisted the urge to push her on the floor, who the hell did she think she was?

"Ahhh! My song!" When French Montana – "Pop That" started playing, Loly enthusiastically bounced on Grimmjow's lap. Following suit, Menoly decided to bop around and shake her ass on Ichigo.

" _Ugh, not again."_ Ichigo signed to himself. The orange haired man let her go on wobbling around for several minutes, but he couldn't take much more. His face was red and twisted with disgust. Not only was this uncomfortable, but the blonde had on some sickeningly strong, flowery, overly feminine perfume. Next to him, Grimmjow looked too content with Loly's dramatics in his lap. All that shaking made her skirt hike and Grimmjow was blowing smoke down her crack.

" _What the fuck?"_ At this point it was clear why they were here, and Ichigo wanted no parts of it.

"Orange, you aight?" Grimmjow noticed the repulsed look on his face.

"Not really," Ichigo couldn't take it anymore and pushed the blonde's stank, perfume soaked ass off his lap.

"Hey! What the hell is your problem?" Angered, Menoly crossed her arms and gave the red-head a frustrated glower.

"Aight, aight," Grimmjow moved Loly off his lap and stood up. "I'll get at ya later." He said, dismissing the woman.

"What? But why?" Loly whined.

"Why? Cus ya'll fuckin' up my chill. I told ya'll I just wanna relax."

"But I ain't do nothin'" She whined some more.

Grimmjow looked at her like she had lost her mind, she must of forgot who she was talking to. "You ain't hear what the fuck I just said?" He grunted glaring at the dark haired woman.

"Fine! Come on, Menoly." Loly grabbed the blonde woman by the wrist and pulled her along out the room leaving the two men alone once more.

"Yo, I swear jawns be trippin'" Grimmjow shook his head. "Sup wid you though, Orange? You gotta girl or somethin'? Over there lookin' all vexed and shit."

Ichigo started to brush himself off as if remnants of that woman's body parts remained on his clothing. "Oh, no I don't have a girlfriend." He laughed hesitantly, that definitely wasn't the issue. "Actually, I'm-" He cut himself off when he noticed the outburst of cheering, the club becoming louder than it was before.

"The fuck goin' on?"Grimmjow had taken notice also and moved to the balcony to see what the excitement was about. The red-head was right on his heels, curiosity stringing him along.

In the middle of the club, a huge crowd gathered around Uryu, he was dancing in a Jerkin' style doing move called the pindrop and reject to E-40 – "Function (remix)".

"Well ain't this some shit." Grimmjow pulled a chair up to the rails to watch the unexpected performance.

Ichigo's mouth dropped open like his jaw was unhinged. He had to sit as well, because he could hardly believe what he was seeing. Uryu doesn't dance, he can, but refuses to do so around others. Ichigo recalled the time he walked in on his housemate doing some kind of jig in his bedroom. Uryu went ballistic and kicked up a big fuss, turned beet red, threw Ichigo out his room and slammed the door behind him. By the way he acted you'd think he was just caught masturbating. So the only explanation for what was now taking place had to be the liquor coursing through his system. The earlier awkward dance scene must have been the group atmosphere making him nervous before the drinks had a chance to crack his shell.

Uryu slowed it down, pop-locking with the utmost precision while also passing a hand around his head doing another dance called the Dougie and a little Cat Daddy blended in. "Yo, I see you Glasses!" The DJ said hyped up, and encouragingly started mixing in Young Sam – "Hit My Cat Daddy". Uryu stayed on beat and sped back up, rolling his arms at his side in what's called Wheelchair Stuntin'. Two guys from the crowd jumped in with him to do the same.

"Yer boy is fuckin' killin' it." Even Grimmjow was impressed, and rightfully so because Uryu had taken over the floor. It was a complete turnaround from the Uryu seen dancing earlier, stiff and embarrassingly off beat. "You gonna get down there wid 'im?" Grimmjow asked looking over at Ichigo.

"I don't dance." Ichigo felt embarrassed just thinking about trying to put on the same show as his friend. He had rhythm and all, and could hit a two-step, but that was about it. The smoking did seem to relax him a little, but not enough to dance.

After Uryu finished stunning everyone in the building, he strutted back to Nnoitra. The taller man was thrilled, taking Uryu in his arms in a hug that made his feet leave the floor. Ichigo looked on and smiled, it was cute. He couldn't remember the last time he had a hug like that.

The music went from being fast and upbeat to a slow melody with the DJ switching to "Another Round" By Fat Joe and Chris Brown. The lights dimmed more in what was already a darkened space. Most of the clubbers paired off; everywhere it was bodies smashed, winding against each other in a serpentine like manner.

Ichigo was able to see Nnoitra leaning against a wall, arms wrapped tightly around Uryu, their hips slowly grinding together. He sighed and sat his chin in his palm, it's not that he wanted to dance, but he wouldn't mind being close with someone right now. The herb relaxed his nerves, but fused with these surrounding it also brought about some stored loneliness. For some reason his eyes wondered over to the man next to him and it made him sigh again.

"Orange, wanna dance wid me?" Grimmjow asked in a sultry voice. Lazy, blue orbs rolled in Ichigo's direction and looked him up and down.

"W-Wha-!?" Ichigo clenched the sides of his chair and braced himself as if he'd been hit with something so unexpected it would knock him from his seat. Did he really hear what he thought he just heard?

Grimmjow kept his stare for as long as possible, but couldn't help but break into shoulder bouncing laughter. "I'm fuckin' wid ya, chill out."

"Oh," Ichigo added a fake chuckle. _"Oh…"_ For a second, he was disappointed. Of course Grimmjow was only joking. Not like Ichigo felt like dancing anyway. Although, he imagined it would be nice to feel the heat off that ripped body meld with his own, to let large hands travel his frame and have strong hips grind against his ass. Damn, almost made him wish the man wasn't straight.

"Over there sighin' and shit," Grimmjow didn't know what was wrong with the red-head, but Nnoitra would make a similar joke with him to lighten the mood, so he tried it. If anything it seemed to dampen the mood, but whatever. The laugh he got from seeing Ichigo react the way he did was worth it. Now he knew why Nnoitra got a kick out of joking in the same fashion. Vibrating his hip, Grimm pulled out his cell, tapped on the screen to activate it and read the message he just received. "They makin' moves," He said, briefly surveying the floor then leaving the balcony.

" _OK…?"_ Ichigo didn't know what that meant or why it mattered. He mimicked Grimmjow's actions and scanned the floor, it was then he realized Uryu, Nnoitra and Tatsuki were nowhere to be seen. Guess that meant it was time to exit. Grimmjow had already gone, leaving Ichigo to find his way out alone, which wasn't difficult.

When he arrived outside Uryu was with Nnoitra by his truck and Tatsuki was chatting up a young lady next to them. Not far ahead, Grimmjow was shooing away a woman who was trying to hang off his arm while he walked through the lot. What the hell was up with these girls? Either Grimmjow's celebrity-like status was widely regarded or whatever he was carrying in those jeans was serious business. Would it be wrong if Ichigo wondered more about the latter? Grimmjow managed to ditch the woman by the time Ichigo meet up with him and the others, and Tatsuki was bidding farewell to her friend.

"Glasses, I seen ya killin' it on the dance floor, ain't know you had it like that." Tatsuki said, motioning her hands in a way that looked like she was wiping windows.

"Of course," Uryu said, eyes watery and trying to make a serious face. "Did you think I would come to a place like this unprepared?" He said, then broke out in another dance routine.

"Get it!" Tatsuki and Nnoitra both grabbed the young man by his shirt, shaking and patting him excitedly. Uryu kept it up until feeling dizzy from the alcohol he ingested. Almost losing his balance, he stumbled sideways to fall on Nnoitra's chest, the taller man was more than happy to catch him.

Ichigo felt some type of way about the display, it seemed Uryu and Nnoitra were really hitting it off. It's not that he wasn't happy for his friend, he just wished his own circumstances were different. And there was Grimmjow, who was leaned against the side of the truck, hands in his pockets and looking straight ahead at nothing in particular. Ichigo shook his head as if firmly telling himself "No!" He didn't want any pointless thoughts about the thug to infiltrate his mind.

"Yo Grimm," Tatsuki called on the blue-haired man. "Lemme get that shit off ya."

Grimmjow removed his hands from his pockets and brought a set of keys with them. He unlocked Nnoitra's Hummer and went digging for something under the front seat. After he found what he was looking for, Ichigo watched as Tatsuki passed off a bill for a bag of marijuana.

"I got some business to handle next Friday, so I'ma bring yer shit by the crib later than usual."

" _So, he sells drugs?"_ Ichigo was beginning to better understand Tatsuki's dealings with the man.

"What're ya lookin' at?" Grimmjow asked the red-head eyeballing the exchange. "I could bring ya somethin' too, if yer interested."

"You need to get at that, Prep, cus sometimes you be trippin'." Tatsuki added.

Ichigo didn't smoke often enough to seek out a seller, he usually only smoked when a friend offered him a hit. However, if Grimmjow was his dealer he could see himself buying, even if he didn't smoke what he bought. He almost hated finding a reason to see Grimm again, but after tonight he couldn't go on living such a boring life on his side of the tracks while curiosity would have him constantly wondering about this other world.

"Sure." Ichigo agreed to the offer.

"Aight, I don't keep a lot of shit on me," Grimmjow stopped to fidget in his pockets. "But, I'm at Tat's every Friday, so I got you." He returned to his previous position of leaning against the truck while looking straight ahead. "Now, you ready for this dick?" He asked, completely serious.

A heat wave passed over Ichigo's body, stopping briefly to leave a blush on his face before moving on to settle right in his groin. His brain lost all ability to think, so forming a response to that wasn't possible. Why would Grimmjow say that? Was he joking? The man didn't even look him in the eyes when he said it, probably trying to keep from laughing. What if he wasn't joking? Could it be Tatsuki was wrong and he was actually...

"Nah, same hotel." Grimmjow left his prop to reach in the truck again. It was then that Ichigo seen the phone up to his ear. Because he had initially been standing in profile, when he turned his head, the cell wasn't noticeable. His words to Ichigo ended around "I got you." The red-head inhaled deeply and quickly exhaled through his mouth, wishing he could blow away his blush before anyone noticed. Thank goodness he hadn't responded to that, he would have died from making himself look so stupid.

"Me and this jawn 'bout to chill at the diner up the road, ya'll comin'?" About to leave, Tatsuki extended an invitation to the guys.

"Nah, me and Uryu 'bout to take a ride." Nnoitra smiled down eagerly at the shorter man leaning against him. "I'll get up wid ya." He shook two fingers at Tatsuki and started walking Uryu around to the other side of his truck.

" _Not if I can help it."_ Ichigo thought, suddenly annoyed with the two. He wasn't going to let them get far. "Uryu," He interjected, "You got that thing to do tomorrow." He said, grabbing his friend by the arm.

Nnoitra kept one arm around Uryu. "What ya gotta do?" He asked the other dark-haired male.

Uryu turned to Ichigo in drunken confusion unsure what he was asking about. "What do I have to do?"

"You remember that thing." Ichigo pulled the glasses wearing man away from the other and started ushering him to their own ride.

Tatsuki didn't bother to hide her amusement with the situation as it was obvious what Ichigo was doing. She began coughing heartily into her fist, "Cock block!" she squeezed in between her obvious fake hacking.

Ichigo gave her a "Shut up!" glare over his shoulder. It was evident Grimmjow was meeting up with someone, which alone wasn't irritating. It was just, Uryu was hooking up with Nnoitra, and even Tatsuki met someone. Sorry, Uryu, but Ichigo was determined not to be the only one left high and dry that night. So cock block, yes, yes he did.

"Man, dude trippin,'" Nnoitra sucked his teeth. "Ay Grimm, tell dat trick to bring 'er friend."

Grimmjow nodded at Nnoitra letting him know he was understood but continued his conversation. "What? You want me to pull ya hair when I hit it from the back? I'ma beat the breaks off dat shit."

Ichigo rolled his eyes when he caught the tail end of Grimmjow's conversation. _"Lucky her,"_ he thought before he was out of range to hear anything else.

* * *

Songs used:  
Drake feat The Weeknd – Crew Love  
DJ Khaled – Take it to the head  
Usher feat Rick Ross – Let Me See 


	4. Chapter 4

Even when Grimmjow explained he wanted no strings attached sex, he sometimes managed to get the females that clung to the hope she was so special she could change his mind. Do you have a girlfriend? Are you going to call me? When can we get together again? These questions were the reason he was usually home before his one night stand knew he left the hotel. Of course Nnoitra was managing to make that difficult. Since his friend drank last night Grimmjow kept his keys. After sitting in the truck for twenty minutes waiting, he was now wishing he drove his own car. This would be the second time he called Nnoitra's cell.

"Bring yer ass on, Nnoi." Grimmjow watched the glass doors to the hotel while Nnoitra's phone rang until it went to voice mail. The woman he was with last night, Loly, was one of those clingy chicks. Grimm typically messed with a woman once, but for the sake of convenience he hooked up with Loly the second time last night, which was a big mistake. She spent half the night talking about her last boyfriend, future plans and how she wanted Grimmjow included somewhere in the mix. Sigh...

It wasn't like Grimmjow lead her on either, she knew of his reputation before he also explicitly explained he wasn't looking for any kind of relationship. Needless to say he wouldn't be meeting with her again. His occupation made life complicated enough without adding love in the mix. He also had yet to find the type of person he could establish the kind of connection it took to build a relationship, and having trust issues didn't make matters easier. So for now, he planned to leave that rock unturned.

"The fuck is this fool doin'?" Grimmjow leaned closer to the windshield to watch as Nnoitra came running out the hotel lobby, one hand holding up his jeans, the other flailing in the air.

"Yo, Grimm, start the truck!" Nnoitra came sprinting through the parking lot like a pair of pit bulls were snapping at his ankles, Loly and Menoly were right behind him.

Grimmjow started the engine and backed out the parking space, would make for a faster get-away if he was ready to drive off. He watched his friend run a relay race using those lengthy legs to leap over the bushes acting as dividers and cut around the other vehicles in the lot. When he finally got to the Hummer, he jumped in the passenger's seat, breathing heavy.

"So you gonna just leave wid out sayin' nothin'?" Loly appeared behind the truck, fists clenched and livid expression.

"I ain't got time for bullshit." Grimmjow hit the accelerator and was off. After he turned out on the highway he could still see Loly in the rearview mirror standing in the same spot. "Can't wait to hear this one," Grimmjow chuckled knowing there had to be a good story behind it all.

"Man, lemme tell ya," Nnoitra started to explain;

O_o Ten _minutes earlier_ o_O

"Menoly, open up!" Loly yelled, repeatedly beating on the outside of the hotel room door. "Menoly!"

Nnoitra rolled over in a mist of sheets to see the woman he was with last night walking to answer the door.

"Why you beatin' on the door like that?" Menoly asked the dark haired woman and rubbed her sleepy eyes.

"Grimmjow is gone!" She hissed.

" _Oh shit,"_ Nnoitra didn't know what time it was, but if Grimm was gone then he had definitely slept too late. He quietly rose and sat on the edge of his bed, gathering his belongings and slipping on his pants, shirt and sneakers.

"Is he still here?" Loly pushed past the blonde in the door. "Nnoitra!" She hollered, walking into the hotel room and over to his side of the bed. "Where the fuck is Grimmjow?"

Nnoitra was trying to hold off from laughing in the girls face. It was evident Loly just woke up because she had sleep lines across her cheek and her features were squeezed in what he called morning stink face. One side of her hair was in a pony tail, the other side out in a frizzled ball that was mashed to the side of her head, and she only wore her bra and skirt. She looked quite crazy.

"Where's Grimm?" Nnoitra scratched the back of his head like he was actually thinking about it. "I think I know where he at, lemme go check real fast," He said, walking casually until he got near the door then bolted off into the hall.

"Shit! Come on Menoly." Loly and the blonde took off after him. "Come back here!" She yelled, attracting the attention of hotel guests, some opening their doors to see what was going on.

"Catch me if ya can, bitch!" Nnoitra teased the woman, looking back and laughing to irritate her further. He clowned around, skipping and waving his arms with both middle fingers in the air. Long legs and natural speed give him a good lead ahead of the women, so he wasn't worried about them catching up.

"Fuck you!" Loly's face turned fire engine red with anger, Nnoitra succeeded in further pissing her off.

Coming off the elevator, a spectator gasped and pulled her small child to her side when she saw the three running and shouting. Once she realized Loly was in her bra she dramatically covered the child's eyes. "My goodness! There are children around, cover yourself!"

"Shut the fuck up and mind ya business!" Loly cussed at the onlooker.

Nnoitra ignored the elevator and went for the steps. There weren't many guests in the lobby, so there was no extra dodging to slow him down. Making it through the glass doors, he knew the girls were still hot on his trail and signaled for Grimmjow to start the truck. Once in his transportation he was able to catch his breath.

* * *

 

"Runnin' 'round got me hungry as fuck." Nnoitra rubbed his growling stomach. "Like bacon, egg and cheese biscuits wid orange juice and hash browns kinda hungry."

"Aight man, we'll hit up M.D." Grimmjow was still cracking up after Nnoitra explained the details of the foot chase, his friend was a fool. They drove on and further down the highway his phone started vibrating. He picked it up and tossed it at Nnoitra. "Who callin'?"

Instead of denoting the caller, Nnoitra answered and put the phone on speaker.

"Stop whatever you're doing at the moment because I need you to handle something." Kukaku's voice flowed out the speaker loud and clear.

"We gotta come out there again?" Nnoitra asked.

"There's no time. I need you to go see a very important contact of mine. He has something he wants you to pick up."

"What contact?" Grimmjow didn't like being kept in the dark.

"Don't ask any questions. Accept the information I'm about to give and pay attention because I will only give the address once. Don't write it down, just memorize it."

* * *

 

Grimmjow wasn't sure what to expect when Kukaku told him to drive to this address and pick up an envelope, especially after finding out it was on the other side of the tracks. Anything on that side was handled by Kukaku herself. However, this particular contacted wanted Grimmjow and Nnoitra specifically to drop in. Why exactly, he didn't know. The little information Kukaku did give them didn't include the reasons.

Unfamiliar with the area they got lost on the way, but ultimately managed to make it to their designation in a reasonable amount of time. Upon arrival, the guys initially thought they'd mixed up the numbers in the address and ended up at a resort hotel. To their surprise it wasn't a hotel, it was the right location, just the biggest mansion they had ever seen. Two, black suit wearing men standing guard in front of tall, steel gates took their names and reported them through a walkie talkie device. When approval from the inside was given they opened the gates and allowed them to pass.

Inside the gates, a short drive up a hill led to the circular, pavestone driveway and front of the gigantic residence. They could see another path leading to ponds surrounded by a very thick gathering of tall trees and shrubbery, it completely covering one side of the building. To have what looked like a jungle growing against such a nice mansion looked odd to them. Parking on the driveway and stepping out their truck, two more suit wearing men, one brown-haired and the other blond, waited to escort them through the property.

"Come this way," The blond led the way towards two arched, wooden doors. The other guard walked closely behind them, he was so close that Grimmjow could feel him breathing.

"Ay bruh, don't walk all up on me." Grimmjow turned, giving him a disgusted look.

"I am to keep an eye on you." He didn't ease back in the least to allow for any distance between them.

"Aight, but yer hot ass breath is all down my neck and shit." Grimmjow huffed. So badly Nnoitra wanted to laugh, but tried to hold off.

With the opening of the doors, they were steered into an immense foyer. A gold and blue rectangular Persian rug sat at the entrance and matching area rug was in the middle over cream-colored, marble tiles. Two winding staircases with golden rails spiraled to the second floor and three gold and diamond chandeliers hung from the high ceiling above a round, crystal table supporting a vase full of yellow lilies. Past the stairs, two elevators and eight separate hallways let to different locations and on both sides of the entrance another two halls led their own paths.

Grimmjow took in his surroundings from bottom to top. "This a fancy muthafucka,"

"Hell yeah it is," Nnoitra agreed. Neither male was in any way hurting for money, and lived quite comfortably, they simply weren't used to seeing extravagance like this often.

The blond who led them in did a military style one-eighty and pointed at their feet. "Take your shoes off and leave them here." He instructed.

Grimmjow frowned, looking at the man like he was several types of crazy. "Why the fu-"

Nnoitra elbowed him in his side, shaking his head. Kukaku told them to behave and not ask questions. He didn't want to mess up anything for his boss, so he simply stepped out his shoes as told.

"Aight, aight," Grimmjow griped and stepped out his shoes as well, both leaving their sneakers next to the door.

In their socked feet, the two were being ushered along again, the guards taking them to the path on the left of the door. As they ambled along a very obvious camera attached to the wall latched on to their movements and followed every step they made. The hall had a three-way intersection with another guard standing in the center. He held his hand out in a stop signal like he was directing traffic.

The leader turned again, "For your safety and ours, it is necessary that we conduct a pat down."

Grimmjow sighed heavily while Nnoitra and he both raised their arms. While the removal of the shoes was sort of odd, they weren't unaccustomed to pat downs when it came to these kinds of dealings. The blond dealt with Nnoita, checking his waist and pockets for weapons and patting up his legs for anything that felt abnormal. The brown-haired guard handled Grimmjow, hooking his index finger in the mans jeans and moving around to the back. His method for weapon check was a little different; he tugged at and even looked down the back of Grimmjow's pants.

"I ain't hidin' nothin' in the crack of my ass, so get the fuck from back there." Grimmjow warned.

The guard moved on, patting Grimmjow's legs and thighs then stopped when he felt something "suspicious". "What are you concealing here?" He asked, rubbing over the mass with slight confusion.

"My fat dick, wanna see it?" Grimmjow asked sarcastically. "You know what it is, thirsty ass muthafucka. Fuck outta here." The snarky comment took Nnoitra over the edge, he couldn't hold back the chuckles this time and laughed openly, leaning back in a wobble.

The lead suit cleared his throat several times to get their attention. "Now, we ask you to temporarily remove and hand over any visible jewelry before we proceed." He was looking at Grimmjow's right middle finger. On it was an emerald cut, sapphire gem placed in an engraved, thick, sterling band. Microphones and cameras could be disguised as anything now-a-days, so as a precaution they normally confiscated all jewelry.

However, the ring held a great significance to Grimmjow and he never removed it, ever. "I ain't takin nothin' off." He was stern about that, as he wasn't about to hand something off great importance off to some stranger. The guard was about to reiterate his request when a voice from the room behind them spoke first.

"Let them come." After the voice said that, immediately the stop guard blocking the hall stepped off to the side and they pressed forward with no further words.

The door sat open giving view to a man behind a desk in a black, leather, swivel chair. He watched camera feed off a group of monitors stationed to his right, even after they entered his office. With a wave of his hand the guards disappeared outside the door leaving just the three of them. He turned his chair forward and folded his hands on his desk, initially saying nothing, only giving the men a once over with a disapproving scowl. He was of average build, wearing a grey, tailored suit, a light blue button down and dark blue tie. His hair was short and silver with bangs that fringed around frameless glasses.

Grimmjow returned the scowl, they hadn't even spoken to each other and yet he could tell he wouldn't like him. "Yer Ryuken?" He asked when the silver-haired man's eyes stopped on him.

"If that's what you were told." He replied, then flipped his wrist and checked his watch. "You were supposed to be here sooner."

"We ain't familiar wid this area and got lost." Nnoitra tried to explain.

"No surprise," Ryuken said, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Rodents often lose their way when wandering from the safety of their sewers." Then he turned in his chair, leaving his back to the men in his office as he went and searched through a filing cabinet.

Grimmjow was gritting his teeth, he had a response to that, but was fighting to keep his mouth shut. He tried to think of Kukaku, she obviously had a reason to maintain a relationship with this jerk, so he would try to respect that. Before long, Ryuken found a thick, manila envelope, sat and spun back in his chair, placing the envelope on his desk.

"You'll take this to Kukaku, do we understand?" He said, pointing at the envelope and speaking to the males as if giving a task to small children.

"Don't know who ya think yer talkin to, but we got it." Grimmjow snatched up the item in question.

"One would hope you could be useful and manage such a simple task." Ryuken disregarded Grimmjow like his worth was limited. "You are the same as you always were." He shook his head like he was disappointed.

Grimmjow and Nnoitra simultaneously looked at each other. Who was this guy again?

"Alright, escort them out." Ryuken signaled his men back into the office.

That left Grimmjow with a few questions; he'd have to speak with Kukaku later, although he already knew she more than likely wouldn't tell him anything. They went back the way they came, retrieved their sneakers at the front door and returned to the driveway, escorts in tow. Hot breath was again behind Grimmjow, breathing on his neck until they were sitting in their truck. After that, Nnoitra would normally make a gay joke about that guard having an interest in his friend, but Grimmjow looked like he wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"Rude, talkin' shit and actin' like he know me, smartass muthafucka." Grimmjow vented some of what he'd been holding back. Reaching under the driver's seat, he pulled out his hand gun. "Yer lucky I kept ya in the car," He talked to his compact, Desert Eagle and polished the barrel with his shirt. "Mighta had ya blowin' smoke today." He said, sticking the gun in his pocket and starting the engine.

"Chill Grimm," Nnoitra tried to calm his friend. "He wasn't that bad."

"Nah, yer just sayin' that cuz he kinda look like ya dude. Ya know, Glasses."

Nnoitra looked off to the side thinking about it a moment. When the image of the young, glasses wearing man he spent time with at the club popped into his head he smiled. "Who, Uryu? Guess they do look alike."


	5. Chapter 5

_-"Close your eyes and listen,_  
Ease your restless mind,  
And feel the sweetest surrender,  
Leave your word behind"-

Lying on his back in the comforts of his bed, Ichigo's chest rose and fell slowly, breaths steady and mind _mostly_ clear with the mellow sounds of AZEDIA – "Remain As You Are" gliding through his earbuds. With the right kind of tunes he could drift away, escaping to a carefree existence where troubles like the fuck-ton of homework assignments on his desk were temporarily forgotten. He was almost in his happy place, except, he couldn't get there with Friday's outing stuck on replay. His lips curved upward with a smidge of laughter remembering how he went about separating Uryu and Nnoitra. Ichigo knew he shouldn't laugh, it was wrong, he could admit it, but those weren't his actions, or so he claimed. He blamed his deed on the condition that temporarily causes one to display hater like tendencies due to frustration caused by their own lack of sexual satisfactions.

Poor Ichi was suffering from dick deprivation. The only known cure for that was for someone to "beat the breaks off that shit", as he remembered how Grimmjow referred to it. There have been too many dry months for the red-head. Good sex didn't come often, and since Ichigo was picky with whom he'd sleep with, it came hardly ever. If given the opportunity, he'd be more than willing to be dominated by a certain tattooed, chiseled-bodied rough-neck, an experience of orgasmic bliss that would be. Body agreeing, his brain signaled a rush of blood to knock at his southern doors. It didn't take long for hands to travel to the bulge growing in his jeans and rub suggestively through the denim material.

His imagination pursued a lustful path, he could see the larger body with keen, blue eyes backing him into a corner and aggressively pinning him against the wall. The dominate male would flash a predatory grin before the ample mouth attacked hungrily. Lip biting, tongues trashing and two hot bodies pressed together, tugging and pulling away clothing. Welp, so much for easing his restless mind. Metal clanked faintly in the quiet room and the orange haired male undid the silver hooks fastening his jeans, pushing them down, along with boxers, he freed his forming erection. Unhurried massaging is how he started, working his semi-hard member into a steel-hard mass of flesh. His bottom lip found itself tucked between teeth and getting chewed on gently while he slow stoked and used his thumb to tease across the slit.

It felt so good he released his lip with an airy moan. "Mm, fuck me," Ichigo voiced his wants in the empty room. Images of being bent over the nearest hard surface, ass gripped, spread wide and slowly penetrated by a slick, hard cock pulled forth another moan, loud and drawn-out. He envisioned his thug lover grabbing a fistful of pumpkin-orange hair, yanking his head back and beatin' that shit like it stole from him. Picking up speed, he jerked himself with more intensity, trying to keep pace with his imaginary lover. His free hand inched past his abdomen and up his chest until it found a bronze-colored nipple, he tweaked it to mold a stuff peak. So badly he wanted to hear the other say his name, hell even his nickname, in a deep, passion filled moan, his weed laced breath warm and ticklish to the side of his face. Eye lids squeezed together and mouth parted slightly, Ichigo pushed harsh breaths through his teeth, he was getting close. He slowed down just a tad and licked his finger, the dampened digit used to caress the indent under the head of his cock. In his mind the hand not his own, but the man drilling him from the back reaching around to stimulate his most sensitive spot.

"Ah…" The heat building in his lower region exploded ten times over. "G-Grimmjow!" He shouted the name of the man in his thoughts. His orgasm struck with back-bending force, the first spurt of semen jetting up his stomach, the rest he milked on thick, orange pubes. He stabled his breathing while the aftershocks ran their course. It may not have been the preferred remedy for his condition, but until he got his cure, the treatment was most definitely sustaining. Finished, Ichigo reached for a box of tissues next to his bed. Once cleaning off, he tossed them in a waste basket near the door and tucked himself away, fixing his clothing like it was never disturbed.

Since that was out his system, back to relaxing with his music. When his phone started vibrating off the nightstand he remained motionless, unsure if he wanted to be bothered with whoever was calling. He could easily ignore the call and return it later, but the continuous pulsating of plastic on wood was irritating. Rolling on his side, Ichigo picked up his cell to view the screen; _Tatsuki Arisawa_.

" _Aw hell,"_ He hoped this wasn't a call concerning his sister, because he wasn't leaving the house to pick up anyone. Reluctantly he removed one of his earbuds and answered the phone. "Yeah…?"

"AY, WHO DIS!? WHERE'S URYU?" The tenor shouted with earsplitting potential.

"What the hell!?" Ichigo tore the phone away from his ear, not expecting the male's voice or ridiculous level of volume. He knew it was Nnoitra. Who else would call from Tatsuki's number, yelling like a nut for his housemate? Ear ringing, he shot daggers at the cell like the person on the other end could feel the severity of his glare. "How are you going to call _my_ phone asking, _Ay_ , _who dis_?" He tried to mimic the voice on the other end.

Nnoitra hollered into the phone with theatrical, counterfeit laughter then killed the sound of his voice. "Not! Shut up and give Uryu the phone."

Ichigo wanted to argue after being disturbed, but remembered what he did on Friday. After deviously separated the two males, Nnoitra and Uryu likely never got the chance to exchange numbers. So, by rights, passing along a phone call was the least he could do. "Hold on," The orange-haired male rolled out of bed, left his room for the hall and started the short trek to his housemate's quarters.

"What? Nah fool." Nnoitra must of been talking to someone in the background, so Ichigo didn't pay him any mind.

"Yo, Orange," A deeper voice called through the earpiece, a smooth sound that rubbed Ichigo the right way and stopped him mid-trek. "It's Grimmjow."

As if Ichigo couldn't tell… "Hey, Grimmjow,"

"Right swift, throw my code at yer jawn."

"…Do what?" Ichigo couldn't decipher that language.

"Very. Fast. Install. My. Number. Into. Yer. Cellular. Device." Grimmjow spoke slow in a way he thought better for Ichigo to understand.

"Wait, you're giving me your number?" Ichigo found it hard to believe, probably another joke.

"My business line, case ya want me to hook that shit up before Friday."

Ichigo mentally smacked himself on the forehead. Well duh, of course it was business, why else would Grimmjow offer his number? He removed the cell from his ear and placed it on speaker to make entering the characters easier. "Ok, what is it?"

"It's 215-xxx -xxxx"

"Got it." Ichigo was sure to hit the "save number" option. "So, on Friday, are y-"

"Yer still on? Where the hell is Uryu?" At some point Nnoitra had taken the phone back, and was uninterested in whatever Ichigo was saying.

Ichigo took a deep breath and resisted the impulse telling him to yell, "Fucking wait, you moron!" at the man, the core of his frustration with Grimmjow passing the phone off while he was still talking. So damn rude. Continuing on, Ichigo knocked on Uryu's door until he answered. The black-haired man opened only wide enough to stick his head out, Ichigo could hear low vibes of dance music coming from the inside.

"It's Nnoitra, he's on the phone for you." He told him, trying to hand over the cell.

Uryu turned up his nose, staring at the phone like it was harboring a contagious disease. Leaving Ichigo standing in the doorway, he retreated back in his room. When he returned, he held a towel in one hand and a disinfectant wipe in the other. Using the larger, rectangular cloth, he seized the device, and with the smaller cloth he wiped the surface. After the cleaning he finally put the phone to his ear.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, _"Germaphobe much?"_

When Uryu finished his conversation he jotted something on a scrap of paper and handed the phone back, his eyebrow raised at Ichigo in a suspect manner. "He told me what you did."

Ichigo automatically knew what Uryu was referring to, up until this point that specific detail of their night out was hazy for his friend. "You were both wasted and crazy, he doesn't know anything."

"I wasn't crazy, you know how out of character I get when I drink. Besides, that didn't give you the right to interfere." Uryu slammed the door in Ichigo's face, only to open it again seconds later. "Just so you're aware, these walls are thinner than you think. I know what you've been doing and would appreciate you washing your filthy hands after you finish!"

* * *

 

Ichigo's routine felt more tedious than usual, from sunup to sundown robotically engaging in the same activities all week long, and it was only Wednesday. Either this school week was advancing incredible slow, or he was really looking forward to Friday. He wondered what Grimmjow was up to; there was probably nothing about his life that was ever boring. That guy seemed to cross Ichigo's mind a lot lately. Partially caused by the brief phone exchange they had on Monday, but mainly due to Uryu talking with his friend, Nnoitra, practically all day, every day. Those two were so different, what could they find to talk about for hours on end?

In any case, there were other things Ichigo had to focus on. Like at the moment, watching for pedestrians as he turned the corner to his street, and why this white Hummer was sitting in his parking space once he did. Well speak of the devil. What are they doing here? Eager to fine out, Ichigo's legs carried him speedily from car to house. When he arrived inside he was greeted by sounds of muffled moans, lips smacking and tongues sloshing with wet, sloppy kissing.

" _What the?"_ Gradually making his way down the entry hall, Ichigo was concerned with what might be taking place around the corner, though that didn't stop him from looking in the living room. Uryu was straddling Nnoitra's lap, the taller mans hands under Uryu's shirt while they were engaged in what looked like a face devouring kiss.

"Jeez Uryu, you have your own room for a reason."

His housemate wanted to counter that, but was having a struggle with the other male who seemed to be making up for lost time. Nnoitra kept yanking him back down every time he tried to sit up and grabbing his chin when he tried to turn away. Ultimately, Uryu's teeth clamping down hard on the other males bottom lip is how he managed a separation.

"Yo!" Nnoitra touched his mouth to make sure it wasn't bleeding.

"I'm sorry," Uryu apologized, "But you were unrelenting."

"Nah, bite me again, that rough shit turns me on." Nnoitra went on pretending Ichigo hadn't walked in and was aiming to take the smaller man's mouth again, but became distracted by something irksome in the background. It was Orange blowing an exaggeratingly long, drawn-out sigh, as loud and hard as possible to get their attention again.

Uryu furrowed his brown at the one making the annoying noise. "Calm down Ichigo, I didn't know you would be home so soon."

"What up, Orange?" Nnoitra crooked a vexed grin at the man. "I see ya over there t-rippin', as usual."

"You didn't know I would be home? That's not the point, and I'm not _t-rippin'_ as you say, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean." Ichigo had an exasperated look like he expected the males to be more apologetic.

"Well what is the point?" The irritation in Uryu's voice was evident. "It's not even that big of a deal."

It really wasn't a big deal, but Ichigo refused to admit Uryu was right. Instead, he left through the door he originally entered, he didn't feel like being in the same house with those two anymore. Plus, there was no Grimmjow. Although, he understood there would be no purpose in his visit. Nnoitra had a reason to come over; Uryu and he were interested in each other. Grimmjow had no interest in men, and Ichigo couldn't say they were friends, so their dealings would only be business related.

The red-head outlined the coupe's steering wheel with his forefinger as he sat in the parked car to think. He was more the homebody type and would rather be in his room listening to music, but going back inside after having made such a fuss would look silly. His cell was tucked in his pocket so he dug it free, scrolling through his address book already knowing he didn't feel like being bothered with any friends, positive they weren't doing anything remotely exciting. When he got to Grimmjow's business line he stopped and created a text. There was this desire to message him, but what for? The thug would probably shoot him if he texted his business line just to say hello. He could always inquire about a purchase; Grimmjow did say to hit him up if anything was needed. Ichigo tapped on the touch screen and spelled out his message.

-"Sup, Grimmjow. Busy?"- The moment he hit the send button his hand came up to palm his face, suddenly feeling like he just asked the stupidest question ever. Of course Grimmjow was busy, why did he just ask that? He sat his phone on the seat and twiddled his thumbs, anxious to see what Grimmjow would respond with. No text came, but a call did. Ichigo inhaled a calming breath and answered.

"Hello?"

"Who this textin' my cell?"

"It's me, Ichigo. You gave me the num-"

"What'd ya want?

"I need uh, ya know, w-"

"Aight, come to Tat's crib."

"OK, I can go there now if y-"

"Come on, then." Grimmjow immediately disconnected the call.

That was a puzzling conversation, Ichigo was trying to figure out why Grimmjow cut off nearly every one of his sentences. Maybe he didn't like talking business on the phone? Whatever the situation, it didn't matter. He had an excuse to break his boring routine. Hopefully this would be a drive worth making.

* * *

 

Ichigo approached the steps the same instant Grimmjow, in all this sexy glory, emerged from Tatsuki's residence.

"How the fuck you a smoker wid nothin' to snack on?" Grimmjow directed back toward the house. He was facing Ichigo directly, but didn't greet him, or act as if he noticed him. With a cap pulled down low over his face, Ichigo wasn't sure if the guy could even see.

"Maybe if everybody ain't stay in my cabinet I'd have somethin' to snack on. Just drive to the corner store on the other block." Ichigo recognized Tatsuki's voice coming from the house.

"Ain't feelin' that drivin' shit right now." Like he was just now seeing the one standing before him, Grimmjow flipped up the brim of his snapback and nodded at Ichigo. "Orange, run me to that jawn real fast." He said more so telling than asking.

Mocha eyes narrowed with displeasure. Ichigo didn't mind taking him, but damn, could at least greet him before asking for favors. "I guess I can do that." He agreed.

"Orange?" Tatsuki questioned. "That better not be Ichigo, cus he told me he ain't like that nickname."

"Hello to you too, Tatsuki." Ichigo did tell her he didn't like the nickname. He never told that to Grimmjow, however, and actually didn't mind being called Orange after hearing him use it.

"Aight, let's go." Grimmjow impatiently made a shooing motion at the red-head, wanting him to initiate the walk down the path. Ichigo usually didn't like being told what to do, but a lot of things coming from Grimmjow he didn't seem to mind.

"What's yer problem wid bein' called Orange?" Grimmjow curiously asked, waiting for Ichigo to unlock the doors.

Ichigo groaned at the question and didn't answer immediately. First he clicked the lock release button on his remote and slipped into the vehicle. His feelings about nicknames based off his hair color and the associated memories weren't topics he wanted to discuss with Grimmjow. Why did he ask, anyway? So he could make fun of him? Not that it mattered. Ichigo was a big boy; he was too old to get hurt feelings from being teased. He waited for his passenger to secure himself in the seat before he explained.

"Growing up people made a huge deal about my hair color, treating me like I had a birth defect just because my hair is bright orange. It was annoying as hell."

"And?" Grimmjow shrugged like it wasn't that big a deal.

"You just don't get it." Ichigo exhaled audibly.

"The fuck you talkin' 'bout? Think people ain't say some sideways shit 'bout my hair?" To make a point, Grimmjow pulled off his cap and pointed to his head covered in powder blue locks. "You musta been a punk to let muthafucka's get away wid talkin' shit."

"I wasn't no damn punk," Ichigo's face broke into a scowl. He hated when someone tried to make another's experience minimal because their own experience might not have been so terrible.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and leaned over the arm rest into Ichigo's personal space. "If I said you was a punk, then you was a fuckin' punk." His expression copying Ichigo's scowl. "Why the fuck would dumb shit like hair jokes bother ya? Cuz ain't nothin' wrong wid the color of yer hair."

"First of all, you d-, wait, what?" Ichigo registered the last bit of the others words. It was sounding like he just received a compliment, and it came from Grimmjow, of all people. He immediately faced forward hoping Grimmjow didn't notice his color changing. Unable to conjure much else, "Whatever," was his only response.

Grimmjow settled back in his seat, smirking. It was amusing how a few words could get Ichigo worked up, red face and all. He seemed overly dramatic for no reason, and the blue-haired man was surprisingly entertained by it. Though as entertaining as that was, it was time to get moving, and yet, he noticed they were still in the same spot. "Why we still here?" His driver looked like he was stuck on stupid, sitting there unmoving, face still red. Grimmjow pushed the side of his head to snap him back to reality. "Drive, fool,"

When Ichigo parked at the convenience store he decided to follow Grimmjow in, maybe get a couple things himself. He trailed behind the blue-haired man as he walked down the chip isle. He eyed the salty snacks until Grimmjow stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"Want somethin'?" He asked.

"Uh, no," Ichigo couldn't tell if Grimmjow was feeling generous or irritated and didn't like being followed. Just to be sure he wasn't being a bother, the red-head moved to the back of the store near the refrigerated drinks and looked over the beverages.

"Well, look at this fool here." Ichigo heard a voice behind him. He turned around enough to see a bald fella, but went back to his browsing when he didn't recognize him, assuming the man was talking to someone else.

"He must love our side of town. What the fucks good, pretty boy?" Ichigo froze for a second. This was a different voice, and the way he said "pretty boy" hit this troubling tinge of familiarity that left a ill feeling in the pit of his stomach. He turned around again, a guy with crimson colored hair had joined the bald guy. Ichigo was confused by how they spoke like they knew him. He couldn't recall ever seeing these two before in his life, but took a moment to run through the memory cards in his mind nonetheless. An uncomfortable chill began crawling down Ichigo's back. Wait a minute…

"Who are you?" Ichigo demanded to know.

"Oh, I'm offended," Ikkaku took his hands and covered the lower half of his face and the top half above his eyes.

Ichigo caught the look of alarm before it could materialize on his face. That man's eyes and the other man's voice, now he was sure it was the two that robbed him last week. What are the odds? Suddenly all he could see were the guns in his face, the same fear that gripped him that day threatened to overcome his composure. Ichigo did his best to hold himself together, he refused to cower in fear from the sight of these two bastards, he was stronger than that.

"You're blocking the isle." Ichigo said sternly, wanting to get away.

The two men leered at each other, yeah, this would be fun.

"Ya must be talkin' to him," Renji elbowed his Ikkaku. "Cuz ya sure as hell ain't talkin' to me."

"Move out my way," Ichigo insisted and attempted to walk between the two. He made it past them, but wasn't comfortable with leaving his back towards the robbers. It made him feel like something bad was about to take place, and sure enough he felt a sharp yank on the back of his shirt.

Unlike the last time someone grabbed him from behind and he was caught off guard, Ichigo had the chance to react, and did just that. He wasn't a punk and was getting tired of being treated like one. His right hook was fast, but Renji was slightly faster, jumping back and dodging the brunt of the punch, a graze only catching his chin. He felt it though, stopping momentarily to touch the spot that was sure to start reddening any second.

"Cute throw. It almost fucked my shit up." Instead of being angry, Renji beamed as if greatly enjoying himself. Smiling like a psychopath, he stepped up to the orange-haired man and pushed him backwards. Ichigo tried to keep his balance, but the force made him fall into a rack of snack cakes, packs of single serve pies, muffins and cupcakes went tumbling down over his head. Renji crouched down in front of the fallen red-head and pulled a pistol off his waist, pressing it to Ichigo's chest.

"Swing at me again, I dare ya."

On the other side of the store, Grimmjow was trying to decide between cheese curls and pretzels until he came to the conclusion he wanted a bag of each. He was ready to move on to the sweet snacks when he heard a loud crash.

"The fuck?" He tried to see what was going on, but couldn't as the shelves were too high. He moved to the end of the isle and peered around corner to see Ichigo on the floor, a foe of his pressing a gun in his chest. "These fools fuckin' wid my ride?" He placed his snacks under his arm and pulled out his own pistol that was hidden behind his back. He approached Renji unseen from the side and pointed the gun at the back of his head just as he was spotted by Ikkaku.

"Oh great, fuckin' Grimmjow. This fool just poppin' up outta nowhere." Ikkaku scoffed. Grimmjow with Nnoitra, and Renji with Ikkaku had a long running feud against each other. It all came down to who was allowed to run what type of crime in which sections of their half of the city. The result being the drug dealers and car thieves often bumped heads.

Grimmjow ignored Ikkaku, attention focused on the man with the gun. "The fuck ya think yer doin', Renji?" Grimmjow was peeved. Renji looked out the corner of his eye, the grin on his face widening. He stood, Grimmjow's gun moving along with him, steadily aiming at his upper body. Renji repositioned his gun to match Grimmjow's, both men standing in the back of the store, guns drawn like they were ready to partake in a good ol' fashioned, western shootout.

An elder doing his shopping happened upon the scene. Used to the abundant violence in this part of the city, the guns didn't frighten or deter him one bit. Instead of trying to avoid the squabble, he walked right into it, excusing himself past the group, "Pardon me, young folks." And went behind Renji to grab a carton of milk.

When the older gentlemen came by it bothered Ikkaku. He felt ashamed like his Grandfather just caught them behaving inappropriately, but pretended not to notice as not embarrass them. Weird kind conscious for a thief, but it was a certain respect he had for the elderly.

"Ren, he ain't worth the time, let's go." Ikkaku insisted.

Grinning wolfishly, Renji chuckled and lowered his gun. "Don't nobody give a fuck 'bout you, Grimmjow." He said, and hid his piece away at his waist. "Don't try and shot me in the back either." He told the blue-haired man while Ikkaku and he walked away.

"I ain't no fuckin' coward."Grimmjow spat. "If I'ma shoot ya, it's gonna be face to face between them ugly ass eyebrows."

Renji waved his middle finger with a smile while stepping out the store. Once they were both gone, Grimmjow put his gun away. He looked down at Ichigo who was still on the floor starring up at him, russet eyes wide and gleaming. Maybe he's in shock?

"Get ya ass up off the floor." Grimmjow ordered. He kicked packs of cupcakes to the side to access the refrigerator door and take a vitamin water from the rows of drinks. He glanced at Ichigo once more. "Get ya shit and lets go," he said, walking towards the cashiers counter.

Ichigo was barely grasping coherent thoughts. Like, what the hell just happened? Was I just held at gunpoint, _again_? And did Grimmjow really just step in and save me? Those questions spun endless circles in his mind, the last one appearing at the forefront. Grimmjow appeared out of nowhere, wild, blue eyes narrowed in irritation at seeing crazy thugs harassing his friend. OK, maybe Ichigo was adding a little wishful thinking into the mix, in reality it appeared he already had some sort of beef with the two men, the roots of irritation likely in place long ago. That didn't change the fact Grimmjow stepped in, even pulled his own gun. That was the only moment Ichigo could say he was happy to see another weapon. Whether Grimmjow realized it or not, he was Ichigo's knight in shining armor.

When Ichigo removed himself off the floor, he brought a pack of mini muffins with him. He wanted water out the fridge too, why not. You would think after what happened he wouldn't be stopping to grab anything, and would be running out the store to get away from this place. But it was Grimmjow, after what happened he could honestly say that man made him feel safe. If he wasn't developing a crush before he'd surly have one now. Senseless, he knew, but it wasn't like it was something he could help. Seeing nothing else on the shelves of interest, Ichigo headed for check-out to get in line behind Grimmjow. Once there, the blue-eyed male snatched the water and muffins out his hands to put them on the counter with his snacks.

"Wait, you don't have to pay for that." Ichigo protested as the cashier began ringing up the items.

"Chill, I got you." Grimmjow peeled several bills off a wad of cash, paying for their items and carrying the bag. Ichigo felt somewhat bothered by the gesture. He hoped Grimmjow didn't view him as a pathetic, helpless fool and was being nice out of pure pity. Regardless, it was a nice gesture and instead of brooding, it was better to accept it with appreciation. They made their exit from the store, Ichigo going directly to the car and passing Grimmjow who stopped and stood on the cement curb, looking left and right like there was someone he intended to catch, but just missed. He didn't linger long and jumped in the coupe a few seconds later.

"Hurry up and get a move on to Tat's." He urged.

" _Ok…"_ Ichigo backed out the small lot with the purpose of returning to their meeting spot swiftly since his passenger demanded haste.

Ichigo was trying to understand why Grimmjow was in such a hurry to get back. When they parked, he sat there crunching on pretzels like he had nothing to do and nowhere to go. No talking, just eating, and ever so often glancing up in the rear-view mirror. Ichigo tapped on his steering wheel to some random song beat in his head, trying inconspicuously to observe the man's behavior, which seemed a little odd. Done with his snack, Grimmjow balled up the package and dropped it back in the bag then went in his pockets for the reason Ichigo was there.

He pulled out an eighth and showed it to the other man. "Ya good or want more?"

Ichigo almost forgot he was supposed to be buying weed. "No, that's fine." He pulled out a bill, unsure about the price. "How much?"

The drug dealer exchanged the money for the reefer. "Yer good."

"If it's more just tell me." Why did Ichigo feel like Grimmjow was treating him like a charity case? He didn't want his pity.

That made the dealer laugh. Grimm could tell Ichigo was new to buying. "Yer lucky I'ma decent seller. Now shut up 'fore I decide to take advantage of ya."

"Is that so?"A little too much Ichigo liked the sound of those words coming from Grimmjow. "Take advantage of me…" It slipped out more wanting than intended. Blue eyes shifted at him in an amused glower, not sure how to take what he heard. Woops, better rephrase that. "… How? Take advantage of me how?" Ichigo twisted it to form a question.

"Could overcharge ya, but I won't."

"Oh, I see." Ichigo was glad that didn't turn out too awkward. He would have to catch himself before he said things like that in the future. Now onwards to examine the bag he received. This was the first time he handled weed before it was ready to smoke. Thinking about it now, he had no idea how to roll it. Grimmjow obviously knew, would be better to ask the pro instead of trying to figure it out through Google later.

"Hey, how do you make a joint?"

"Orange, you serious?" Grimmjow looked like he wanted to laugh.

Ichigo didn't understand why that was funny. "If I wasn't serious I wouldn't have asked."

"Ain't think you were _that_ new, but aight." Grimmjow pulled some rolling paper from his pocket then took the bag back from Ichigo. "Ya payin' attention?" He asked the red-head, Ichigo shaking his head "yes" in response. Grimmjow proceeded to slowly give a demonstration in joint rolling. Ichigo watched Grimm's fingers intently at first, but then he found his eyes traveling up those muscular arms and past that strong neck. He outlined his jaw then stopped at his lips in time to see him flick his wet, glossy tongue out and swipe it across the rolling paper. Ichigo could imagine a few places he wanted to feel that tongue.

"Make sure this jawn sealed or it's gonna fall apart, got it?" Grimmjow turned and looked at the other whose eyes were focused on his mouth.

"You're supposed to lick it?" Ichigo asked, wishing for another demonstration.

"My mouth clean, I ain't got nothin'."

"Who said you had anything?" Ichigo didn't intend whatever Grimmjow was assuming.

"Who the fuck do ya think yer talkin' to?" Grimmjow cocked his head to the side.

"Huh?" Ichigo's tone wasn't harsh, so why did the man take offense?

"Ya heard me," Grimmjow fisted the collar of Ichigo's shirt, yanking him against his chest. "You gotta problem?"

"What are you talking about?" Ichigo was baffled, and not surprising, turned on. Their faces were so close; he couldn't help but wish the thug's next move would be for his tongue to treat his lips in the same manner it treated the rolling paper. Grimmjow's lips formed a wide grin. He tossed the red-head, sending Ichigo slamming against his driver's door while the amused ruffian released a hearty guffaw.

Ichigo looked at Grimmjow like he was few cans short of a six pack. Was that supposed to be another one of his "I'm just fuckin' wid ya," kind of jokes? Odd guy, odd sense of humor. Not that the closeness was minded so much, but this was the second time today Ichigo got thrown around. Why was everyone treating him like their personal ragdoll?

"Ya need to chillax." Grimmjow passed the rolled produced to his buyer.

Ichigo nodded his head even though he didn't agree with being the one that needed to "chillax". He was putting his herbs away when he noticed Grimmjow looking in the rear-view mirror, again. Ichigo looked too, but seen nothing worth noting. Ichigo was trying to figure out if anything was actually there or has all the smoking simply made Grimmjow paranoid. His eyes switched to his passenger's hands when he heard the crinkling of a muffin pack. Grimmjow ripped the bag open and stuck one of the mini, blueberry flavored delights in his mouth. He chewed like he was trying to figure out if they were good, and once deciding he liked them ate a second, then a third.

"Uh, I know you paid for them, but technically they're sill mine." Ichigo wasn't trying to be rude, but had his mouth set for those. At this rate he would be left with crumbs.

Grimmjow disregarded him and kept eating.

"Can I at least get o-?"

Grimmjow took a muffin and forced it into Ichigo's mouth, cutting him off. "Shut up and eat." He said, spitting muffin crumbs on the man's shirt.

Ichigo had his own hands, he didn't need someone feeding him. Especially not Grimmjow, which was resulting in him sitting there trying to contain a blush. Though Grimmjow wasn't the least bit worried about the color of Ichigo's face. Now turned around between the seat divider, he was glaring out the back window and cursing under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Ichigo asked, noting Grimmjow's visible irritation.

"Nothin'," Grimm faced frontwards and sat properly long enough to gather his cheese curls and Vitamin water. "I ain't gonna be here Friday, so hit me up next week." He said, opening the car door.

Ichigo was ready to leave anyway; he knew it would be best to head back as to not get mixed in any unsavory business. "OK, next week then."

Grimmjow hopped out the car and was about to shut door, but leaned in for a moment first. "Orange, stay away from trouble. Yer punk ass ain't can't handle dat shit." He wanted to tease Ichigo one more time before shutting the door and walking off.

"I already told ya, I'm not a punk!" The door may have been shut, but Ichigo knew Grimmjow heard him, because it looked like he was laughing. Even though he didn't like the way blue eyes said it, he understood what he was getting at. Although, it was pointless telling him to stay away from trouble at this point. Did Grimmjow realize he was the definition of trouble?


	6. Chapter 6

This was the third time Ichigo changed his shirt, why did nothing look good today? Normally he'd throw together whatever clothing seemed right, and often enough it worked, though he did experience occasional fails. Well, today everything looked like a fail. Another Friday had rolled around and he planned to spend time at Tatsuki's, his last rendezvous on that end was more than a week ago. Grimmjow would be there, of course, so he had to get his look together. Ichigo knew he wouldn't notice, he just felt like putting forth the effort.

"Understand I have no qualms with driving my own car and leaving you behind." Uryu stood outside Ichigo's door, arms folded across his chest while watching him sling clothes around the bedroom. He was going too, and they were supposed to be riding together.

"Do what ya want, I don't care." Said Ichigo from inside his closet.

Uryu dropped his arms and clenched his fists, he was becoming aggravated. In honesty he wasn't positive of the routes to Tatsuki's since he's driven there only once; he lied telling Ichigo he would leave to speed him along. Unfortunately, it wasn't working. The orange-haired male had been standing to his closet in just slim-fit, blue jeans and a pair of socks for over fifteen minutes. The dark-haired one walked into Ichigo's room, eyeing the clothes strewn across the bed.

"Ichigo, what is all this?" Uryu asked, picking through the stack of clothing. "Just haphazardly throw on anything like you usually do."

"No, I'm not going over there looking sloppy just because you don't feel like waiting."

"What!?" That was surly shocking to Uryu. "Are you not the same Ichigo that yesterday wore green khaki's, a blue shirt and black shoes with a red jacket? You looked a sight."

"I overslept and was in a rush!" Ichigo claimed. "Just help me find a shirt?"

"Fine," Uryu gave his friend a questioning look. He knew the only time Ichigo cared about appearance was when he was going out on the town, attending a formal event or had a date. Nothing of the sort was taking place at Tatsuki's, so why was he being so particular about his outfit? Whatever the situation, he was going to put something together quickly; there was someone he wanted to see.

Uryu took a gray tank off the clothes-piled bed and tossed it to Ichigo. "Put this on," He moved to the closet and pulled out a blue and green patterned button-down. "This too," Looking through Ichigo's choice of shoes, he found a pair of grey Vans. "Now let's go, it's not that serious."

Ichigo checked himself out and approved of Uryu's choices. Almost ready, he acquired from his dresser a bottle of cologne and sprayed his chest and back with the sweet smelling fragrance.

Cologne too? Uryu knew this was Ichigo's date routine, something was definitely up. "Who are you trying to impress?" Uryu asked.

"Uh…?" The image of a perfectly sculpted face, stunning eyes and messy blue hair popped into Ichigo's head. "No one," he lied, eyes shifting back and forth. "I don't have to have a reason to look and smell good." Finishing up, in the mirror with his hand he smoothed a few forehead flyaways, afterwards stuffed his pockets with the necessary and left his room.

Uryu didn't buy it and tailgated Ichigo to interrogate him further. "Obvious lie. You've been acting strange since you came home last week on Wednesday." His eyes doubled in size as if he'd suddenly been enlightened. "The day you seen me with Nnoitra in the living room…" Uryu felt like he was beginning to understand everything, and what he understood, he didn't like. "Just so you know, you're not Nnoitra's type."

Ichigo stopped on the middle of the stairs and slowly turned to face Uryu and his accusation. "Please tell me you're joking." He wanted to be offended that his friend would insinuate such a thing, but it was so ridiculous he couldn't take it seriously. Had Nnoitra not been involved with his best friend, Ichigo still wouldn't want him. He thought the guy had a peculiar look that he simply wasn't attracted to. "Trust when I say, he's all yours."

When Uryu thought about it Nnoitra wasn't Ichigo's type either. "Well, if you're not going to tell me why you're acting weird I'll find out on my own." Uryu was determined to figure out the reason for his best friend's behavior. "Now let's go, you've wasted enough of my time."

Ichigo couldn't reveal the identity of his crush. Uryu wouldn't make fun of him or anything, but he would definitely deem it necessary to give a lecture about the pointless pursuit and hurt feelings sure to come. Being how it's Uryu, he wouldn't stop with the lecture, he would reiterate his point and continually bring the subject up until he was ready to rip his own hair out. It wasn't that big a deal, just a temporary infatuation, Ichigo figured he'd be over it in a couple weeks.

* * *

 

Her place must have been the gathering spot on a Friday, because Tatsuki's small home was full today. All familiar faces occupying the living room. Grimmjow on the couch in the first cushion next to the arm, Nnoitra next to him, and the blond Ichigo remembered as Shinji at the end. In the adjoining room separated by a half wall, to the kitchen table is where Tatsuki sat with Orihime, Karin and Chad.

"Hi, Ichigo." Orihime waved gleefully as if delighted to see him. Ichigo waved back in return. The young woman then smiled at Uryu. "Hello, I don't think we've meet, I'm Orihime."

"Nice to see someone around here has manners. Pleased to meet you, Orihime, I'm Uryu." Said the dark-haired man, introducing himself.

Chad silently nodded his head at the two, acknowledging them.

"Ya'll comin' through here to chill like part of the crew." Tatsuki said in approval of her new company.

"Pretty much," Ichigo agreed with a chuckle. "Sup, guys."

"Ichi, yer not cool, stop tryin' so hard." Karin picked on her brother.

"Shut it, kid." Warned Ichigo, knowing his sister was trying to be a pain.

After speaking to the folks in the kitchen, Ichigo turned his sights towards the couch. Shinji looked high as a kite, watching TV and howling hysterically at whatever bit they were doing on iCarly. Nnoitra had been trying to get Uryu's attention since they walked in and Grimmjow hadn't as much glanced over since they arrived. He was hoping for a "Sup, Orange.", but wasn't surprised when he got nothing. Not sure why he thought the man would act different towards him after the time they spent together last week. Guess he shouldn't expect as much from such an unusual guy. Ichigo never did figure out what was seen that had Grimmjow acting so paranoid that day. Uryu left his side and stepped over to the couch towards the one beckoning him over. When he was in range, Nnoitra grabbed the smaller man by his hips and pulled him onto his lap.

"Wait a second! Don't just grab me like that in front of others!" Uryu pushed to get away.

"Ain't nowhere else for ya to sit, so chill." Nnoitra kept a tight grasp on him.

"Then I'll stand," Uryu continued his struggle, trying to fight his way free of the waist lock.

"Eh, stop flailin' around like that, yer makin' my dick hard." His tone turned salacious. Uryu immediately stopped moving, a blush colored his entire face, Nnoitra was so embarrassing.

"Don't ya'll nasty fools get nothin' started on my couch." Tatsuki called from the kitchen.

"Ain't nobody gonna do nothin on yer couch, but if Uryu keep actin' up we gon' need one of yer back rooms." Nnoitra was talking to Tatsuki, but had his eye locked on Uryu the entire time. He only averted the stare when directing his words at Ichigo. "Ain't no more seats, Grimm got space for ya though." He pointed at the drug dealers lap.

Unlike Uryu who was so humiliated by Nnoitra's actions he fought to get away, Ichigo would love if Grimmjow grabbed him up like that. Of course he would still be embarrassed, but would get over it somehow. The mere thought brought a wishful cheek tint as he stood in the middle of the floor watching his blue-haired crush. Nnoitra noticed, his visible eye widening with surprise.

"Don't start that shit," Grimmjow said in response to Nnoitra. Always in a cap, he had to lift it so Ichigo could see eyes, dark and lazy from smoking, roll in his direction. "Sit ya ass down somewhere, yer annoyin' me standin' 'round in the floor."

Creases formed on Ichigo's forehead, that's the first thing Grimmjow says to him? How nice… He looked for a spot to sit but there was nothing available, all seats in the kitchen and on the couch were taken. You would think with all the weed Tatsuki pays for she could afford a few more chairs, just saying. Ichigo noticed the chair arm next to Grimmjow was free; the man didn't specify where to sit, he only said somewhere. The red-head decided to prop himself on that arm and get close to Grimm. Hopefully he wouldn't say anything.

"Welp, I'm thirsty," Nnoitra stated, standing and holding Uryu in his arms like he weighed nothing then used him to preserve his seat. Uryu still held that embarrassed look on his face, even after he was sat down on the couch. The taller black-haired man watched Ichigo with a malicious smile while walking off to the kitchen. He dug around in Tatsuki's fridge until finding a bottle of grape soda before going back to the living room. Next to the couch is where he stood, lumbering over Ichigo while he opened his beverage, the drink fizzing in Ichigo's ear as he released the air-tight seal. Ichigo looked up, he saw one dark-gray eye sparking with devilment above him, along with a creepy, face splitting grin.

" _Uh, OK then…"_ he still couldn't believe Uryu accused him of trying to impress that guy. _Yikes._ The red-head moved his attention elsewhere, the show on television looked familiar, it resembled something his younger sister, Yuzu, used to watch. Ichigo split his attention between the TV and the sexy dope dealer next to him. Grimmjow had his head leaning on the back of couch like he was trying to nap. Ichigo didn't notice Nnoitra inching closer until he outright shoved him off the arm of the chair.

Attempting to catch himself, Ichigo twisted his body and tried to grab the corner of the couch. He failed. Right in Grimmjow's lap is where he landed and Instead of hooking the couch he caught Grimmjow's arm. Despite all of Ichigo's weight abruptly thrown on his form, Grimmjow didn't budge; his arm didn't even jerked when the smaller man attempted to catch himself. He was like a stone statue, his nerves reflecting that, and now that Ichigo got a good feel of that arm, his muscles too. All the previous times Grimmjow closed distances between them they've never been this close. Or maybe they had but Ichigo was terrified and didn't notice the smell of herbs with a naturally spicy and sweet scent emanating off his neck. Ichigo wanted so badly to take a nibble to see if he tasted like some kind of delicious, cinnamon flavored candy.

You could tell Grimmjow was chilling on a high, because his reactions were super slow. His head tilted forward and he looked Ichigo directly in the eyes. He didn't look annoyed, as expected, his expression spoke of nothing really. He didn't speak at first; they just looked at each other. The longer Ichigo stay in that lap staring into his eyes, the harder he was finding it to move. Hell, if Grimmjow didn't saying anything he wouldn't bother moving. That was unless the blue-eyed man reached behind his back where he kept his pistol, then Ichigo would find the incentive to move real fast.

"Yo," Grimmjow finally spoke. "The fuck ya tryna do?"

Highly entertained, Nnoitra looked like a seal clapping his hands together, then doubled over holding his sides with spitting laughter. He had enough sense to put the cap back on his drink beforehand as to not spill it all over the floor.

"I'm not trying to do anything!" Ichigo declared. "It was him," he said, pointing at Nnoitra. "Why did you push me?"

"Huh?" Nnoitra began to collect himself. "Maybe yer just clumsy."

"I'm not clum-" Ichigo's argument faded in his throat when he felt Grimmjow invading his side pocket. "W-What are you doing?" His pockets would happen to be extra deep, and he could feel Grimmjow rubbing his thigh as he dug. Ichigo was doing all he could to keep excitement from exposing itself noticeably across his cheeks, it wasn't working. "Get out of there." He demanded, his hue a bright red.

"Chill, fool, I ain't tryna steal shit," Grimmjow said, continuing the pocket prod until he found Ichigo's wallet. He opened the leather, tri-fold and took out a bill, showed the amount of money to Ichigo then went in his own jeans for a bag of reefer. He made the exchange himself and stuck Ichigo's wallet, along with the drugs back in his pocket. "Aight, now get the fuck up."

Ichigo wordless hopped to his feet and threw a dirty look at Nnoitra, who was smiling happily back at him. To avoid a reoccurrence of what just happened, Ichigo opted to lean against the wall as a safer alternative. Nnoitra went back to his seat and swooped Uryu up once more, returning the smaller man to his lap after retaking the spot on the couch.

"If you wanted me to move you could have just informed me!" Uryu was getting annoyed with being handled like a small, stuffed toy.

"OK," Karin came from the kitchen to stand in the living room as if about to make an announcement. "Since everybody's here I'ma touch on my party real fast."

"What party?" Shinji turned from the TV.

"My eighteenth B-day is next week."

"Oh word? YOLO!" Shinji cupped his hands around his mouth and hooped rather loudly. Being next to him, Uryu showed his disapproval with an eye roll at the raucous blond, he didn't like sudden, loud noises.

"Yup, legally an adult so this fool won't be on my case all the time." Karin nodded over at Ichigo.

"Hey brat! I'll always be on your case, you're my little sister. It's my job, you dumbass." Ichigo fussed at his younger sibling.

"I know, I'm only kiddin'. Jeez, reminds me of Isshin. Anyway," She continued, "My pops rented this bougie country club for me and my sister's party. They got a formal dress code. I wanted to invite everyone, but understand if you all aren't feelin' that scene."

Tatsuki came from the kitchen to prop her arm on her younger friends shoulder. "You know we all comin'. Right, ya'll?"

"HYFR!" Shinji nodded his head.

"HYFR." Nnoitra concurred.

"HYFR? What does this mean?" Uryu inquired, not familiar with the acronym.

Nnoitra and Shinji simultaneously looked at each other. Shinji stood, turned to Uryu and cleared his throat like he was about to explain something of great importance.

"Do you love this shit? Are you high right now? Do you ever get nervous?"

"What kind of questions are those?" Uryu asked the blond, frowning and confused.

Shinji ignored him and kept on with the bridge. "Are you single? I heard ya fucked yer girl, is it true? You gettin' money? You think them peoples you wid is wit' you? And I say..." On the last bit, Tatsuki, Karin and Nnoitra all put their hands up.

" _Hell yeah,  
Hell yeah, hell yeah,  
Fuckin' right,  
Fuckin' right, all right,  
(And we say) Hell Yeah  
Hell yeah, hell yeah  
Fuckin' right,  
Damn __right, all right"_

They sang in unison, hopping up and down in beat to the nonexistent tune. Uryu was doing his best to hold steady while Nnoitra bounced in his seat, rocking the poor man in his lap wildly. Expression broken with bewilderment, Uryu looked at Ichigo like he was supposed to answer some unasked question. Ichigo could only shrug his shoulders and shake his head. Yeah, he didn't know what was going on either, or how that question resulted in song. One thing was for sure, Karin's party would be interesting if all these characters would be in attendance.

* * *

 

One Week Later

It was just like their father to go all out, but he had good reasons since his twins were turning eighteen. He worked out a deal with a friend that owns a rather extravagant country club situated in the middle of their wealthy suburb. Shame he had traveling business impossible to reschedule, otherwise he'd be in attendance to chaperone.

The party was set up in the recreation hall. Tables with pink, lace coverings were pushed along the sides of the space to make a larger area to congregate. Pink drapes gathered at the center of the ceiling and canopied to the corners of the room, crystal vases mixed with white and pink orchids decorated every flat surface and clusters of pink and white balloons floated throughout the hall. There was also a spot sectioned off to accommodate a disc jockey.

Some party attendees gathered around the refreshment tables to admire the ice-carved centerpieces or sample the hors d'oeuvres. Others sat around tables chatting while the rest created socialize groups in the middle of the hall. Karin split her time between Ichigo and Yuzu. While she tried to spend most of her time with her twin, Yuzu's current group of annoyingly spoiled, rich kids wasn't Karin's kind of crowd. The party started half an hour ago and her friends had yet to make their appearance.

Off to the side at one of the tables is where Ichigo was. For his sister's party he wore taupe-colored trousers, a cream colored dress shirt, taupe vest and tan, cap-toe oxfords. Uryu was seated next to him in a peach dress shirt, black, extra trim pants, a peach and black silk tie, black, double sole oxfords and peach-framed glasses. Ichigo noticed his friend had been corresponding with someone through text message since their arrival, that someone likely being Nnoitra. He wondered if he and Grimmjow were still coming and was tempted to ask, but decided against it figuring Uryu would again assume the wrong thing.

Ichigo wished Grimmjow would show, at least with him there he'd have some eye candy. All of the guys currently at the party were too similar, clean-cut preps with snobbish attitudes, how boring. A few looked decent enough, but they were around his sister's age and that simply wouldn't do. He wanted a man, not a boy. Screw it, Uryu could think whatever he wanted, Ichigo wanted to know Grimmjow's whereabouts.

"Who's that, Nnoitra? Are they still coming?" He asked, impatient.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Uryu glanced at Ichigo out the corner of his eyes. "Calm down, they'll be here."

"Um, I'm relaxed. You're the one that needs to calm the hell down." Ichigo waited for Uryu to give one of his smart-alecky responses, but got nothing. It seemed he'd already moved on past the exchange, awareness elsewhere with glasses covered eyes glued to the Halls double entry doors. When Ichigo followed his gaze he understood why. It was the cool kids arriving fashionably late. Commanding attention as they walked through the party, moving in what seemed like slow motion while a fitting tune played in the background. Or that's how it looked to Ichigo anyway, he's been watching too many teen movies.

Tatsuki lead the clique, she wore black slacks, a white oxford under a navy vest and dark blue loafers. Orihime was beside her in a two-tone, light gray and lavender, mid-calf, wrap dress with silver, two-inch, sling back sandals. The boys came in behind them; Shinji in slate pants, a lavender button-down, purple suspenders and black Dockers. Chad next, dressed in his burgundy, silk shirt with a gold tie over dark pants and a pair of black and gold linked loafers. Nnoitra waltzed in behind Chad, untucked, champagne colored dress shirt, brown tie, dark-brown slacks, beige, leather slip-ons, a brown eyepatch and beige fedora. Uryu's eyes lit up, it was a fresh breath to see him in somewhat classier attire. Last, but certainly not least, Grimmjow brought up the rear, styling in charcoal, cashmere trousers, a royal blue dress shirt, black, laceless oxfords and he hooked a finger in a charcoal blazer slung over his shoulder.

Ichigo wasn't sure what to expect in regards to formal wear for the group, but they all looked good, Grimmjow especially. Others weren't as impressed, however. Pointing and whispering began when they made their entrance. One group of girls in particular was quite offended by the unfamiliar faces.

"Lyke seriously, where did they come from?" Asked one teen, valley girl accent and nose turned up.

"I bet they're Karin's friends, you know she hangs out on the other side; god knows what she picked up from over there." Her friend added.

"I know, right?" Another snob chimed in. "I mean, look at that one, is his hair blue? Lyke, how weird is he?"

"Hey, how about you shut up?" Ichigo said after hearing the last girl's remark.

The girl turned from her friends. "No one was talking to you, m'kay?" She said with a hard eye roll then whispered something to the female next to her.

Ichigo couldn't stand those kinds of people. Not only because she was speaking ill of his crush, but she was exactly the kind of person that made his life hell while growing up. She doesn't know Grimmjow, yet the color of his hair makes him weird? Pure ignorance, but no worries, she was now insignificant compared to those approaching. Tatsuki spotted Ichigo and Uryu from the door and lead the group in their direction. They pulled chairs from surrounding tables and parked the seats next to them. Sup's and hey's were exchanged with the greetings going back and forth.

"Yo, where's Rin?" Tatsuki asked, looking over the guests.

"She's right there," Ichigo pointed across the floor to a group of girls.

"Where?" Tatsuki kept looking but couldn't spot her anywhere.

"I can see her!" Said Orihime, voice high and almost jumping with excitement. She left her chair and bounced over to the birthday girl, tapping her on the shoulder. Karin turned around, eyes lighting up upon seeing Orihime then shifted off to the side with a slight chuckle.

"Guess I look weird dressed like this." Karin felt awkward because she was in a dress. She wore an above the knee, pleated, coral-pink, silk chiffon dress, cut with a v-neck and clenched at the waist with a white ribbon. She hated anything other than sneaks or flats, but the dress wouldn't look right without the white kitten heels on her feet. Her sister had a matching outfit but white, with the ribbon being coral pink and same color heels. Karin let her hair down and even allowed her twin to do her make-up.

Orihime shook her head, disagreeing. "No, you don't look weird at all. Actually, I think you look really pretty!" She enthusiastically nodded her head, agreeing with herself.

"W-Word?" Karin kept her eyes off to the side, blushing a little. "My sister picked out our outfits. I wasn't gonna wear it, but kinda remembered how our mom used to put us in matchin' dresses. She ain't here to see us turn eighteen, but if she can see us from up there we wore this for her."

Orihime's vision blurred as she tried to hold back the tears. She already knew about Karin's mother dying when she was a toddler, but hearing her explain the reason for wearing a dress was enough to make her cry. "T-That's so sweet, Rin." She wept, throwing herself on the taller girl and hugged her in a tight embrace.

"Hey, you ain't gotta cry for me." Karin rubbed Orihime's back. "Besides, I'm eighteen now, we got other things to talk 'bout."

Orihime leaned back, eyes darting nervously like others could hear what they were thinking. She looked at Karin who gave her a knowing smile, which made her blushed wildly, her cheeks turning the same color as Karin's dress. "R-Right," Orihime agreed.

Back at the table, the others had watched the two girls interact.

"Real talk, Rin looks bangin' in that dress, and she eighteen too?" Shinji said eyeing the dark-haired girl. "If that jawn ain't fuck wid broads," He began slowly thrusting his hips, insinuating his intentions if given the chance.

"Ay fool, sit ya ass down somewhere, don't be talkin' about my sister like that." Ichigo growled at the blond. Tatsuki, Nnoitra and Grimmjow all looked at the red-head with amused creases in their brow; he was starting to sound like them.

"Aight, chill," Shinji sucked his teeth and sat back down. "I'm just sayin'."

"Can't talk 'bout the man's sister and not expect 'im to get hype." Grimmjow said, agreeing with Ichigo's stance.

Ichigo smiled appreciatively at the blue-haired man's insert on the matter, and took the opportunity to study his crush; it never got old analyzing him. Grimmjow looked incredible in slacks and a button down; the formal look certainly did him justice. Since they walked in Ichigo had been keeping his fingers interlaced to stop his hands from coming together in exuberant claps. Grimmjow deserved a round of applause just for being so damn hot.

"I see ya starin'. Grimmjow cut across Ichigo's thoughts. "Was proly thinkin' since I'm hood, I ain't know how to get down wid the classy shit."

"…No, I wasn't thinkin' that at all." Ichigo replied, wondering how this guy always came to such wrong conclusions, even though it was probably a good thing.

"I think I look aight," Grimmjow said, brushing off his shoulder.

"Are you freakin' kidding!? You look better than aight." Ichigo spoke out loud what he was supposed to be thinking. As if to stop any other thoughts that would try escaping through his lips he covered his mouth, it was time to stop talking. The outburst was something he couldn't help, though. Grimmjow was fine as hell, how could he refer to himself as just "aight"?

"OK," Grimmjow shrugged. "I can agree wid that." He accepted the compliment thinking nothing of it.

One of the girls who made disparaging comments about the gang earlier was now waltzing over to their table; her friends stood off to the side watching her every move.

"So lyke, my friend dared me to come over and ask you a question." She said, pointing at Nnoitra.

Nnoitra figured it was probably a question about his height or something. He got those a lot. "Aight, ask,"

"Why are you wearing an eyepatch? We think you look lyke a pirate." The girls who looked on started giggling, one saying "Oh em gee, I can' believe she really said it!"

The wide smile that often stretched Nnoitra's features quickly disappeared, but reappeared almost immediately after. "It's my style, just how I like to rock my shit."

"M'kay, but lyke, it looks really stupid. This isn't a Halloween dress-up party, ya know." She gripped, nose turned up at the patch wearing man like she was appalled. Even though she was talking to Nnoitra, everyone at the table looked at each other with bemused irritation like they were personally offended.

"You're correct," Uryu cut in, pressing the peach-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "This isn't a Halloween party, so I'm trying to figure out why you came here in that costume." He looked the teen from head to toe. "That _dress_ you're wearing isn't even your fit, I can see the sides drooping and exposing the wings of your dingy bra. Just tacky." The girl found herself crossing her arms to hide the undergarment.

"Damn, ya boy gettin' 'er together." Tatsuki elbowed Nnoitra and looked on intently like they were watching a movie and it just got to the good part.

"Yeah, that's Uryu for ya." Nnoitra smiled proudly.

"I'll assume you haven't passed a single mirror today," Uryu continued. "Because no one in their sane mind would be walking around with their hair in such a travesty. I mean, if it's a joke just give me the punch line because I simply don't understand."

The harshly assessed girl put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?!"

"You're excused." Uryu shoo'd her away. "I suggest you take one of these seats and go perch yourself in a corner."

"Lyke seriously? Do you have any idea who I am?"

"The real question is do you know who I am? I'm sure the name Uryu Ishida rings a bell." He said smugly.

Once hearing the name her eyes enlarged, that name did ring a bell. "Uryu _Ishida_? Are you saying you're the son of R-"

"You've been over here lyke way too long," One of the side watchers finally interjected, taking her friend away by the arm.

"I don't know who she thought she was, looking like _that,_ coming over here talking to him in such a manner." Uryu was talking to himself, grumbling out loud and angry with what the girl started.

Nnoitra had been watching the other dark-haired man with a hunger-laden gaze, Uryu was too cute when he got mad. "Let's go," He impatiently grabbed the smaller man by his hand and hauled him across the floor until they disappeared through the double doors.

"Orange," Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo by his elbow.

Having been absorbed in watching Uryu, the red-head jumped slightly when grabbed and turned to face Grimmjow in his seat. "What!?" He got nervous when that man touched him. Being grabbed unexpectedly only made it worse.

A scowl formed between blue brows. "Come 'ere" Grimmjow put an iron clasp around Ichigo's arm and pulled him against his chest. He moved in closer until his lips were almost bushing Ichigo's ear and whispered. "I was just gonna tell ya, I left that shit in my car." Ichigo could feel the whispered breaths on his neck and shuddered. Grimmjow didn't take notice when the red-head vibrated against his body, he seemed to never catch on to much of anything. "I'm sayin', I don't know 'bout these muthafuckas in here." He added, looking around the room suspiciously.

"R-Right," Ichigo leaned over and created some space, Grimmjow had no idea what he was doing to him. He felt his face getting hot and Grimmjow was looking at him like he was somewhat confused, probably wondering about the blush. While they were on the subject of dope, Ichigo found his wallet and pulled out the usual amount of money for an exchange. He didn't want the dealer to go dipping in his pockets like he did last week. If Grimmjow started touching his thighs he might create an embarrassing tent in his trousers. "Here," he handed Grimmjow the money. "I'm payin' in advance."

After Grimmjow accepted the green, Ichigo excused himself to the bathroom; he wanted to run some cold water on his face and do something about his color. The lavatory was only a short walk from the Hall. When he entered he went straight to the sink wanting to stick his face under the faucet.

"Mmm, it's so deep," A voice moaned from the last stall.

" _Uh…OK..."_ Ichigo was thinking that sounded an awful lot like Uryu.

"Lean back, take all dis dick," A different voice instructed.

" _Wait, is that Nnoitra? What are those two doing?"_ Ichigo moved away from the sink and walked closer to the stall. Out of nowhere, the vulgar sounds of flesh slapping together mingled with unrestrained mewls of pleasure echoing throughout the space.

"What the fuck! Uryu?" Ichigo beat on the stalls door.

"Fuck 'im, I ain't stoppin'." Nnoitra said, breathing heavy.

"G-Go away, I'm b-busy." Uryu stammered.

"I can't believe you!" Ichigo huffed and stomped out the restroom. He was pissed, how dare Uryu get laid at his sister's party. The only reliable sex Ichigo was getting at the moment involved his hand and here Uryu was enjoying the real thing. Based off the way he was moaning it must have been good too, just wasn't fair. The frustrated red-head went back to the recreation hall and found his seat next to Grimmjow. He couldn't even look in his direction, he was too embarrassed. Catching his best friend having sex in the bathroom left him with his weird, perturbed and uncomfortable feeling.

A good several minute passed before Uryu and Nnoitra appeared though the doors, Nnoitra wearing a huge, goofy grin and Uryu with a pink, flustered face. Uryu adjusted the knot of his tie as he walked over to the table, he must have recalled how the tie got misplaced to begin with because a pleased smile stretched his thin lips. It irritated Ichigo to new depths.

"Hey!" Ichigo stood from his seat and put a finger in Uryu's chest. "You got some nerve."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Uryu knew exactly what he meant, but played it off.

"You know what the hell I'm talkin' about." Ichigo said, raising his voice.

"Ichigo, be quiet or you'll cause a scene." Uryu warned.

"Oh, like the scene you caused in the bathroom? You we're so damn loud I bet they heard ya through the walls."

"What happened in the bathroom?" Shinji asked, everyone at the table and the ones surrounding it looked on in curiosity.

"Nothing of importance, he's merely overreacting. Ichigo, cool it." Uryu attempted to calm the orange haired male because now they had an audience.

Ichigo didn't seem to care and went on with his rant. "Oh? So you fuckin' him," Ichigo moved his finger from Uryu's chest and pointed to Nnoitra. "All loud in the bathroom during my sister's party is nothing of importance? What's wrong with you?"

"Oh mi gawd, he had sex in the bathroom? Totally gross." Someone from another table decided to put their two cents in.

Uryu could feel eyes on him and hear people whispering to one another, he felt so ashamed. Nnoitra couldn't care less about what others thought, people could watch, point and make comments all they wanted. He also knew Uryu could handle his own, but this was starting to get out of hand. The discomfort on Uryu's face was evident and that had Nnoitra concerned.

"Aight, everybody chill and leave Uryu the fuck alone." He said, wanting to diffuse the situation.

Now Nnoitra was taking up for him? It angered Ichigo further. "No, she's right, that's gross. Who has sex in the bathroom, of all places?" Ichigo shook his and gave Uryu a displeased look.

"Shut the hell up, Ichigo." Uryu snapped. "You're just jealous because I have someone while you're obsessing over Grimmjow. You're an idiot, liking someone who has no romantic interest in you because they're straight." Uryu let the cat out of the bag, he didn't care anymore.

Grimmjow looked back and forth between the two men. Previously he was disinterest in their quarrel, but they had his attention now. Ichigo could see him watching out the corner of his eye, this was bad. It felt like his surroundings slowed to a stop and everyone was watching him. No one said a word. What could they say anyway? Awkward didn't begin to describe the atmosphere. Admittedly, he knew this was his own fault for overacting the way he did, guess Uryu could only take so much. Still, it was too much for Ichigo, he had to get out of there. His eyes locked on the floor not wanting to see anyone's face while he shuffled out the doors. He would remember to call his sisters tomorrow and apologize for leaving early.

Grimmjow watched and waited for Ichigo to make his exit. When he was gone he turned to Uryu, "So, what are ya sayin'? Orange is gay?"

Nnoitra wanted to shake his friend. He sometimes wondered if that man was all there. "Grimm, yer a fool."

* * *

Song: Drake n Lil' Wayne - HYFR


	7. Chapter 7

Head hung listlessly against the steering wheel, Ichigo watched the front door from his driver's seat. The day had been taxing enough, with classes and all, so he wasn't looking forward to waltzing inside and seeing interactions between Uryu with his taller companion. Nnoitra made multiple appearances during the weekend, he might as well have been a resident with the way he freely came and left. Now, they were in a fresh week and he was back again. Ichigo wondered how the man had so much free time. One would think he'd have something more productive to do, and fucking Uryu isn't something Ichigo considered productive. His attitude was still sour, yes, but deep down there was happiness his best friend found someone to spend time with. Hating the couple clearly didn't bring him closer to what he desired, though he still couldn't help being ticked off by their constant public displays of affection. There was no reason to be fused together every sparing second, it was nauseating.

Had there been anything to anticipate this week Ichigo could better deal, but it was hopeless. After the events at the twin's party he wasn't sure if going to Tatsuki's was a good idea anymore. Bumping into Grimmjow may not be good for his sanity, and pretending Friday never happened simply wouldn't work. Ichigo tried forgetting, but the embarrassment stemming from that day was a constant reminder of the shaming silence after Uryu's revealing outburst. His only piece of mind was not having the image of Grimmjow's reaction haunting him after it all. The revelation of his sexuality wasn't the issue, Ichigo didn't care who knew of his orientation. With a bisexual best friend Grimmjow obviously didn't have a problem with men who enjoyed other men. His doubts stood with the dealer being comfortable around a dude who was, as Uryu described, obsessed with him.

"Damn, Uryu!" Ichigo cussed the man from the confines of his vehicle. He felt crossed even though they'd forgiven each other. Realizing his own mistake in acting on pangs of jealousy, Ichigo initiated the apology. The conversation went better than expected, as far as an exchange with those two is concerned, anyway.

* * *

 

Ichigo woke Saturday morning determined to keep his mind from constantly replaying the mortifying episode that took place the previous day. His ideal way to start the weekend was to truck downstairs in his Spongebob pajamas and raid the kitchen. On the days with no scheduled classes he looked forward to Uryu cooking a delicious breakfast for them both. The aroma of sausage, eggs, hash browns and pancakes permeating the second floor already had his mouth watering. Maybe this was Uryu's way of trying to put yesterday behind them. Scurrying out of bed and nearly tripping in his slippers, when Ichigo got downstairs the first thing he saw was the display on a laptop screen reflected in glasses. The one wearing the glasses seated at the dining table with a textbook and cup of coffee next to the computer. The sound of a low, annoyed grunt reached Ichigo's ears when he approached.

OK, if Uryu still a grievance with him that was understandable. Ichigo rolled his eyes and tried to ignore it, moving on to the kitchen. With spotless counters, stove and not a dish in the sink, there wasn't a tell-tale sign food had been prepared. If it wasn't for the lingering fragrance of what smelled like a good meal, he'd think it was nothing other than his imagination. The thought of Uryu cooking only enough for himself, eating then cleaning before he left the bed stirred pains of hunger in Ichigo's empty stomach.

"Figures," Ichigo whined. With no hot breakfast waiting and being a fail of a cook, a big bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch was his best bet. Ichigo grabbed a deep bowl and large spoon, getting his mouth set for sweet, crunchy, cinnamon goodness. Opening the refrigerator, he searched the shelves, no milk. Of course Uryu would use all the milk. Nothing to flip over, he didn't mind snacking on the sugary squares dry. Going to the cabinet he opened the door and picked up the cereal, it felt awfully light. When he opened the box, his left eye began to twitch once seeing only three Cinnamon Toast squares and a pile of sugar at the bottom of the bag. Now _that_ was unacceptable.

"Oh _hell_ no," Ichigo snarled through clenched teeth and smashed the nearly empty box on the counter. "Uryu, why the hell did you eat my cereal?"

Uryu, unconcerned with Ichigo's gripes, continued with his studies, turning a page in his textbook and taking a sip of his coffee.

"What the fuck, jerk. Don't ignore me!" Ichigo stomped closer to the dining table.

"Whoa, calm the hell down. That cereal was the equivalent of eating sugar-covered cardboard. I don't know why you're making such a fuss, if anything I did you a favor." Uryu stated calmly, feeling his words justified his actions.

"A favor? Really?" Ichigo shut his mouth at that point, it was futile and he knew it. Uryu is a pain to live with if he had a bone to pick with you. At the risk of his housemate driving him totally insane, he knew he'd have to apologize first to put the incident behind him.

"I guess you're pissed about what happened. Listen, I get it." Ichigo pulled out a chair at the table to talk things over.

"Are you referring to the day where you behaved like a buffoon, embarrassing me and ultimately yourself?" Uryu sat back in his seat, arms folded at his chest.

"I'm apologizing, you wanna shut up and let me finish?"

"You can't apologize while rudely telling me to shut up in the same breath."

Ichigo ran hands through his orange strands, quite tempted to rip them from the scalp. Could Uryu be anymore difficult? "Look, I'm sorry. OK? I know you were pissed, but ya didn't have to go runnin' your mouth. How'd you know I like Grimmjow?"

Uryu tilted his head to one side; Ichigo just asked him one of the dumbest questions he's ever heard. "What a shame Grimmjow isn't gay, you two dimwits would make a lovely pair. I'm not deaf, dumb and blind. I've known for a while, actually, but in my denial I refused to believe you would be foolish enough to fall for the straight one. I thought it was a cover to get closer to Nnoitra, which is why I went as far as asking."

Ichigo made a gagging noise and gesture to imply regurgitating. "You are deaf, dumb and especially blind if you thought I wanted _that_ over Grimmjow, straight or not."

"Oh please! Like that character you're interested in is better. I forgive you. So get the hell out of my work area and go brush your teeth or something."

* * *

 

In other words, everything was back to normal between the two. While all that was fine and dandy, it did nothing to change the fact Uryu ruined something great. Grimmjow acted weird at times, but everything about him had been so refreshing and brought about the change Ichigo so badly wanted. It also seemed they were becoming friends. Although Ichigo wished for more than a friendship, he could be content with that little bit of something instead of nothing at all. Now, he couldn't imagine Grimmjow would accept his money and continue their business relationship.

"Fuck my life! _"_ Ichigo raised his fist and punched the steering wheel in frustration, the car horn beeped angrily at him in return. As much as he was dreading the inevitable there was nothing left at this point but to go inside and get back to his old routine. With a slam of his door, Ichigo left his car and drug his feet towards the house. His key barely had a chance to turn the lock and he could already hear undesirable sounds. He let his head fall forward with a faint thud against the door, idling there briefly, wondering what he would find when he walked in this time. As about expected, from his peripheral vision he could see a shirtless Nnoitra, hands moving and groping god knows what on Uryu.

Ichigo kept it moving past the room with the couple. They seriously couldn't go upstairs? He was starting to think the reason they stayed in public view was to continually rub their relationship in his face, more reminders he's single. No matter, they would be out of sight soon enough. Ichigo intended to lock himself away in his bedroom until the tallest of the pair left, and in the meantime try to keep from slowly losing his mind.

Before that, Nnoitra had a task for him. "Orange, go in the kitchen and grab Uryu and me some drinks. "

Ichigo stopped mid-stride and stomped his foot in detest. "What do I look like? I ain't your red-headed stepchild! Get your own drinks."

Nnoitra found that highly funny. His boisterous laughter filled the living room and made its way to the hall where it agitated Ichigo who wasn't as jovial. The kitchen was in view from the living room, Ichigo already planned to stop there before going upstairs. He could have effortlessly grabbed the drinks, tossed them to the guys on his way out and continued on his way. He would have been more likely to considerate it had Nnoitra asked nicely, not commanding him like a personal servant. He and Grimmjow sure have a bad habit of bossing people around. A picture started forming, Ichigo shook his head to rid himself of the image hoping it would work similar to an Etch A Sketch.

"Can't fool around with those people, I got shit to do," He talked to himself trying to think about something else before blue hair and all his marvelous features infiltrated his thoughts. Complete waste of time thinking about that person now, so better to forget him sooner than later. In the kitchen, Ichigo went to the fridge to get a bottle of iced tea. The cap twisted off easily enough and he took a swig before turning around to leave. The moment his eyes focused ahead he lost the grip in his hands, the bottle slipping through his fingers with his entire body growing stiff.

Leaning against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen, Grimmjow looked down at the drink spilled on the floor. "Sup," He spoke.

He was immobile with a broken expression of utter disbelief, Ichigo couldn't mutter a word, the best could do was stare. Grimmjow's sudden appearance was so unexpected he wanted to question the authenticity of it. What was he doing just standing in the kitchen? Was this a hallucination?

"Yo, anybody home?" Grimmjow snapped his fingers in front of Ichigo's face.

Ichigo's eyelids pressed together in hard blinks. "O-Oh," He managed, looking to have been woke out of hypnosis.

"I scare ya?" The thug asked, smile playing on his lips and seemingly pleased with the feedback.

"Surprised me a little," With Ichigo's slow recovery came the realization of being out of sync. Normally, Nnoitra telling him to do anything would have him suspicious. Distraction caused by the recent distress bore the blame. Grimmjow had more of an impact on him than he thought, and that wasn't necessarily a good thing. In his own defense it was entirely possible to have missed seeing anyone in the corner due to the long, rectangular shape of the kitchen, cabinet obstruction and position of the door.

Once his body regained the ability to function, his eyes immediate left the blue ones and jumped around the kitchen in a searching manner. He was indeed looking for something, although that wasn't the reason for nervous behavior. The unease he felt being around the man who was now aware of his feelings made it difficult to willingly keep eye contact. Paper towels, that's what he needed. Countless times he's been in his own kitchen and he couldn't recall their location. It was tremendously hard to find a focused train of thought with Grimmjow staring holes through him from the other side of the room. He looked down at the puddle of tea by his feet to regain concentration. Now he remembered, the towels stay in the cabinet to the right. Finding them quickly, he ripped off what was needed and started the cleanup.

"What are ya doin' in here anyway?" Ichigo asked with a right to be curious.

"They on that bullshit." By they Grimmjow meant Nnoitra and Uryu. He could stand only so much of their smooching and fondling before wanting to remove himself from their presence. Thus explaining why he ended up in the kitchen. "Anyway, I don't stiff my customers." He said, pointing to the small bag on the counter next to him.

Finished wiping the spill, Ichigo tapped his foot on the step trashcan to dispose of the soiled towels, the tea bottle getting tossed in the recyclables next to it. That marijuana he prepaid for had been the furthest thing from his mind. Just minutes ago he sat in his car moping. Had someone informed him Grimmjow was a few feet away waiting in the kitchen, the man now busy rolling smokes, he'd think it was a rather cruel joke. He came all this way for his customer? Seemed too good to be true, and even with his doubts Ichigo smiled uncontrollably. He had to get himself in check and stop coming off like a goofball, he imagined Grimmjow already thought he was strange. Especially now that he knows the deal, where did his opinion stand? That's when Ichigo's smile faded, there was still the issue of certain things said that should have never been told. Even if Grimmjow's only purpose was to bring what was owed and they would never see each other again, Ichigo felt it better now to get a few things off his chest.

"Hey," Ichigo said, stepping closer to Grimmjow on the other side of the room. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but wasn't about to back out now. "About what happened at the party,"

He was interrupted by Grimmjow's abrupt laugh. "Oh yeah, why'd ya leave?" He asked, the situation more humorous to him than awkward.

"I uh," Ichigo wasn't sure how to respond and scratched at his nape while he tried to figure out how to approach the exchange, he didn't want to make a fool out of himself by saying the wrong thing. It was obvious Grimmjow didn't think the matter was serious. Nonetheless, Ichigo wanted to address it to find out Grimmjow's point of view.

"What Uryu said, about me..." Ichigo hesitated wishing he could find the same humor in the subject as Grimmjow.

"'Bout ya what?" Grimmjow questioned, the grin from laughing still on his face.

"About me and the stuff blurted involvin' you." Ichigo stalled again, it was more difficult to say then he thought.

"Damn, fool. Just spit it out!" Grimmjow lost his smile and patience with the red-head. "Ya mean 'bout how yer obsessed and shit?"

"Yeah, it ain't like that." Ichigo tittered uncomfortably. "Well it is, but I mean not entirely-"

"Stop yer rambin', will ya. Ain't even serious."

"I just didn't want things to be awkward." Ichigo half sighed with relief that Grimmjow didn't seem too angry.

"Ain't awkward," Grimmjow looked to be thinking something over then said, "To be real, I'm kinda flattered."

Temporarily shocked into silence, Ichigo wasn't sure what to think and brushed aside the elation that wanted to follow after hearing such a statement. Instead, he readied himself for what was expected to be a follow-up of Grimmjow laughing in his face, this had to be a joke. Standing there watching and waiting, when Ichigo didn't hear as much as a snicker he questioned Grimmjow's candor.

"Wait, seriously?" He probed the man for a reassuring answer.

Grimmjow shrugged, looking at Ichigo with a half-crooked smile. "It's what I said, ain't it?"

"But how? Aren't you, I mean, I was thinkin' you'd be creeped out or-"

"I'm not, so shut the fuck up 'fore ya piss me off." Grimmjow was annoyed enough to raise his voice, he wanted Ichigo to accept what he said and leave it alone. With one hand he squeezed Ichigo's face to pucker his lips and stick a freshly rolled joint between them. "Hit this and stop talkin' so damn much."

Ichigo nodded, eyes the size of saucers while he waited for his dealer to light him up. Through his nose he breathed the strong musk of herbs covered by the thin rolling paper, he didn't actually smoke, letting it slowly burn away at the position which Grimmjow put it. For the second time that day he was gone in a state of shock. Motionless and wide-eyed, the only thing he felt was the warm fluster on his face. This was all too unexpected.

For someone who is straight, Grimmjow doesn't seem the slightest bit uncomfortable knowing a man is interest in him. How is that possible? Even with a bisexual best friend he was incredibly cool. Or maybe Ichigo was scratching at something that didn't itch. Every part of wishful thinking would overanalyze something simple and turn it into unnecessary complications. If anything, he felt relieved blue hair was understanding and somewhat indifferent; most other straight guys would put too much effort into avoiding him.

After thinking through some reasoning, Ichigo loosened up. Reasonable logic is what helped him relax, not the weed he finally started puffing. From the first inhale the thick smoke soaked up the moisture in his mouth and left a burning in his chest. Nothing terrible, but it was enough to have him search for another tea in the fridge along with a glass from the cabinet to pour it in. Grimmjow stood by waiting for Ichigo to get what he need then made his move towards the living room, the other male following.

Walking into yet another make-out session, Grimmjow heaved a sigh at the two dark-haired males. "Nnoi, where the fuck is yer shirt bruh? Go take a cold shower, shit's ridiculous."

"Thank you!" Ichigo exclaimed louder than necessary, though he couldn't help himself. There was joy in knowing someone else felt the same way he does, which proved a point. He could now feel less like the overreacting single guy complaining out of bitter jealously, his complaints were warranted.

Nnoitra waved a middle finger at the men and turned to Uryu with a roguish grin. "Shower sounds good to me."

"You can take one alone." Uryu wasn't as into the whole scene like Nnoitra.

Grimmjow didn't care if they went for that shower or not as long as they left. "People tryna sit, so ya'll get up and take that shit elsewhere." He ordered, swatting them off the furniture.

Uryu disdainfully looked Grimmjow over. "Who the hell do you think you're speaking to like that? I don't know who you think you are, but you're in no position to tell me what to do in this house."

A chilling, "if looks could kill" glare shot forth from Grimmjow at the dark-haired man, his teeth ground together trying to keep anger at bay. The way Uryu spoke was beyond irritating. No, it wasn't just the way he spoke, but also the way his dark-blue eyes peered through those expensive, silver frames. That look made you feel like you were worth less than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes. Uryu's attitude was vexatiously familiar to Grimmjow in a way he would rather block from his memory. It was a reminder of the last person with a similar look that succeeded in greatly rubbing him the wrong way. Before he could sling a tirade of offenses, Nnoitra realized the threat and scooped Uryu off the couch, tossing him over his shoulder with the amount of effort it would take to slinging a damp towel.

"We're goin' to yer room." He said, carrying the smaller man towards the hall. Nnoitra might let Uryu get away with using that tone, but he knew Grimmjow was a different story. Press too many of his buttons and a bad situation would ensue. It didn't matter whose home they were in.

"I don't need to be carried, I know how to walk!" Uyru flopped around as best he could. Holding his glasses in place with one hand and with the other hit at Nnoitra's back. His feet flapped away like he was trying to swim in shallow water and Nnoitra just stood there, caricature smile and stance unaffected by the grownass man throwing a tantrum on his shoulder. Ichigo's disposition had improved to the point where his lips curved in a laughing smile at the picture of the zany couple. Had Grimmjow not been there to lighten his mood it wouldn't have been the least bit funny.

The humorous moment came to an end when Grimmjow clamped Ichigo's wrist. "What's the deal?" He asked, confused as to why circulation to his hand was cut.

"Stop wastin' good shit." Grimmjow growled and carefully extracted the herb burning away between Ichigo's thumb and forefinger. With the couch empty, he stepped around a circular, stacked-style coffee table and sat next to the arm.

"Aight, have fun." Nnoitra said, grinning at Grimmjow before walking off with Uryu in place.

Ichigo wondered what the tall man meant. What fun would there be? Almost implying Grimmjow and he would do more than smoke. The lull of wishful thinking, Ichigo knew it well. Stupidity, he was familiar with that also, just not to the point of getting hopes up. The couple had moved on, prompting Ichigo to park his hide on the cushion beside Grimmjow. He took a sip of the iced tea he'd been holding before setting it on the coffee table. Leaning back on the sofa, he noticed Grimmjow licking his lips, eyes glued on the condensation covered glass. Ichigo realized he wasn't being hospitable in the least, when the man was right in his kitchen he never took the opportunity to offer anything.

"My fault, did ya want somethin'? I have soda, juice, wat-"

There would be no waiting for Ichigo to finish the list. Grimmjow helped himself to the tea in view, gulping down the liquid in its entirely. Finished, he wiped his upper lip across the back of his hand and returned the emptied glass to the table.

"Nah, I'm good." He said, mouth spreading in a wide, picture-ready Colgate smile.

Ichigo was taken aback, not by Grimmjow's ill-manners in helping himself to something that wasn't his, he hadn't forgotten about his muffins, but he was shocked to see him smiling in such a way. He couldn't recall ever seeing his smile so warm and genuine, his eyes so engaging. Trying hard to look past the beauty of perfection, subconsciously he warned himself that smile may not be as unfeigned as it seems. Last thing he needed was to get caught up. Grimmjow may have said he was flattered, but that's all he said. Too many steps near the edge and Ichigo could find himself falling into a bottomless pit.

In the mist of silence Grimmjow blurted a guffaw. "Orange, yer funny."

"Am I?" Ichigo was quizzical, unaware anything comical had taken place but joined him in laughter anyway. It made zero sense and yet something about Grimmjow's smile made the moment enjoyable nonetheless.

"Ya know, yer friend got a smartass mouth." Grimmjow said, settling back. He stretched his arms to rest on the sofa back behind Ichigo's head.

"Yeah," Ichigo knew all too well about Uryu's smart mouth, he had to live with it. "Don't take it personal, it's just how he is."

"Nnoi's crazy to think that shit's cute." Grimmjow had to inhale some smoke before he got pissed all over again. He wanted to relax, letting his head fall on the back of the couch and propping his feet on the coffee take.

"Comfortable?" Ichigo jokingly asked. First the iced tea and now this, he certainly was making himself at home.

Grimmjow raised his head; his eyes open a sliver and mouth twisted to blow the tiny white clouds slowly seeping through his lips at Ichigo. "You ain't got no boyfriend, do ya?" He asked, the question seemingly out of place.

"No, I'm single." Ichigo replied entirely too quickly. How strange it was for Grimmjow to ask such a thing crossed his mind second. "Why?" He was suddenly feeling anxious about the incoming response.

"Ain't in the mood for no trippin' muthafucka to get the wrong idea."

The basis of the boyfriend question and follow-up were over his head, Ichigo was slow to catch on. "What'd ya mean?"

"Damn, Orange. Gonna make me break shit down? I ain't, but if I was, ya know," Grimmjow made a strange hand gesture like Ichigo should know the word he was thinking to avoid saying it. "Yer dude would trip on some jealous shit and tryta fuck wid me. It's that bait. I snatch his bitch if he slippin', she on my line like I'm fishin'." Grimmjow quoted lyrics from Wale's song "Bait" to make his point.

Ichigo nodded his head in understanding. "Right... Wait, what?" For a moment they were reading off the same page, then Grimmjow skipped ahead and started talking about fishing. Those analogies were too confusing and downright ridiculous.

"I'm sayin' I don't feel like killin' today. Understand that shit, don't ya?" His jesting tone became grim with the potential of a single word. Grimmjow lost the lazy look in his eyes, his blue orbs somewhat crazed and the rest of his face void of expression.

Ichigo fell silent and his eyes widened nervously. That's definitely not where he thought the conversation was headed, now regretting the inquiry. When it came to Grimmjow, Ichigo was naïve, that much was established, but Grimmjow was also unpredictable. There is no guessing what would come out his mouth or what actions he would take. This also implied by the thug's next move of returning to his previous relaxed state and continuing regular conversation as if he hadn't looked like a deranged murderer only a second ago. Ichigo was evidently the only one affected by the stirring words.

"Don't act like you don't know a crazy muthafucka. Everybody does." Grimmjow continued.

" _I do, he's got his feet propped in my living room."_ Ichigo thought, not speaking it even though it was the honest truth.

"I know some wacko, stalkin' bitches." Grimmjow's voice dipped lower. If Ichigo hadn't been next to him one would assume he was mumbling to himself. "Only fucked wid 'er twice and I swear she pops up everywhere I go. Nutty bitch."

Ichigo only listened, Grimmjow looked too be cruising at the moment and didn't need to be disturbed by another's commentary. They've talked before, but not like this. Drug related and situation appropriate topics mainly. Not that Ichigo was complaining, he found it a nice change.

Grimmjow peaked through his lids making sure Ichigo was attentive before resuming. "It's what happens after I've laid the pipe. Give 'em good dick and it fucks up their mind." He slapped Ichigo's shoulder and smiled with intrigue. "'Course you know how that is, don't ya?"

Ichigo thought it was a rhetorical question, but the way Grimmjow studied him it's clear he was anticipating a reply. He wasn't sure what to say, being stuck somewhere between "laid the pipe" and "good dick". The perverted thoughts were flooding in. Right now he was thinking if Grimmjow wanted materials to lay anymore pipe he was certainly willing to provide. Forbid any images accompany those thoughts. Grimmjow was cool at the moment, but if Ichigo's pants started to look tighter he might not be too pleased.

Grimmjow started with the hand gesture again. "Yer uh..."

"Gay?" Ichigo tried to fill in the blank. "Yeah, I am. Just sayin' it won't make ya one of us." he joked, not grasping the difficulty in only saying a word.

"No shit?" Grimmjow nodded sarcastically with a dirty look attached. "Ain't what I'm talkin' 'bout. Yer what they call a pitcher, right?" He turned away and scratched the side of this neck making it obvious there was a feeling of unease.

What is this, baseball? Ichigo would have giggled at the terminology if he wasn't so confused. Why the hell would Grimmjow care if he was catcher, pitcher, switch hitter or center fielder? The questions were getting stranger by the second.

"No, I'm the catcher. If that's what ya wanna call it." Ichigo thought that much would be obvious.

"What I figured. Nnoi's fuckin' wid me." Grimmjow mumbled through his last blow of smoke.

It was beginning to make more sense to Ichigo. If Nnoitra took any parts in this it was likely him finding entertainment in filling Grimmjow's head with false information. "What's Nnoitra got to do with it?" He asked, ready to clarify whatever he's been told.

Paying no attention to the red-head, Grimmjow swiped his thumb across his tongue and tapped it on the lit portion of the joint repeatedly, a soft fizzle hissed until burning ceased. Showing no signs of pain or discomfort from what would hurt most people, you could tell he's being doing it for years. Having smoked half of his buyer's purchase, he dropped the rest on Ichigo's lap.

"This crib's nice." Grimmjow changed the subject. "What ya'll do?" He pried, looking around the spacious living room. Sixty-five inch, plasma television, theater soundbars, leather sofa set, exotic plants sitting on circular shelves and a area rug in the center of the polished, wood floor. He liked the look of the place.

Ichigo didn't like the fact that Grimmjow wanted to play hopscotch with his questions, but digressed anyhow. "We ain't drug dealers, if that's what ya mean."

"OK?" Grimmjow shrugged. "Who the fuck said ya'll were? Don't start wid that smartass shit like glasses, I ain't the one." He warned, face beginning to twist in a frown.

"Didn't mean it like that, I was kiddin'." Ichigo raised his hands defensively. "We don't work or anything. Our dads give us an allowance that pays for everything."

"So, ya'll some rich, spoiled muthafuckas moochin' off pops, huh?" Grimmjow never was one to sugarcoat.

As slightly offended as he was, Ichigo couldn't deny that was essentially the truth. "It's an arrangement our parents made while we're in college. They practically throw money at us, so it ain't like they're hurtin' for it. My dad owns his own business, and Uryu's dad, well, he-"

"Cut the chatter, we got work, fool!" Despite being just a few feet away, Nnoitra deemed it necessary to yell. Ichigo turned towards the interruption and saw a displeased Uryu walking in with the much taller dark-haired man behind him.

"No home training if I've ever seen it. I don't know what's worse, his feet on my imported coffee table or your lack of an inside voice." Uryu complained, hand covering an offended ear. "Nnoitra, there is no reason to be so loud."

"I can think of a reason to be loud. Keep on wid that mouth and I'll skip work to show ya what I mean." Nnoitra could twist just about anything and turn it sexual. He began rolling his hips in back of Uryu so he'd get the picture.

"Cut that out!" Uryu reached up and beat on Nnoitra's chest.

In unison Grimmjow and Ichigo glanced at each other, both thinking their friends were idiots.

Grimmjow unhurriedly rose off the couch with his smokers laze. "Where's ya'll jawn, I gotta take a piss." He waited with hands in his pockets until given directions.

"Jawn? We have no such thing here." Uryu, with his no-nonsense attitude, stopped interacting with Nnoitra to correct Grimmjow. "I hope you intended to do your business in a bathroom, which we have down the hall on the right."

A thick vain popped out of Grimmjow's neck as he listened to what he could of Uryu's spew. He got tired before the other set a period on his last sentence and let his legs move. On the way out he walked close enough to clip Uryu, for the smaller man it was the equivalent of being struck by a small pickup truck. Uryu would be picking himself off the floor had Nnoitra not pulled him away from the brunt and caught him.

Uryu was visibly stunned then straightened into a scowl accordingly. "My god, how rude!" He was being offended left and right and went from holding his ear to rubbing his arm.

Ichigo swallowed the laugh that almost erupted, Uryu had that coming, but humor aside he would caution his friend later. It wouldn't be funny if one of these days he caused Grimm to snap and Nnoitra couldn't protect him. Thinking of Nnoitra, Ichigo could see a grin entirely too wide for the face it occupied turned in his direction. He noticed Nnoitra smiling at him since entering the room. It was the type of look begging to be questioned. Ichigo gave into his curiosity. "What is it?"

Nnoitra didn't hesitate to respond. "Now that Grimm knows yer into him he's gonna fuck wid ya even more."

Ichigo could sense there was more to it than what's being said. The claim itself isn't farfetched; if what Nnoitra says is fact, he didn't believe it a good enough reason for him to be grinning like a fool. Not that he expect the total truth, but Ichigo probed for a more in-depth answer.

"Why? You make it seem like he's–" The patting of closing in footsteps put an end to the chat. With the blue-haired man now reappearing in the doorway Ichigo didn't feel comfortable continuing. The appearance was brief since he continued to the front door. Nnoitra said his farewell to Uryu and stepped out with him.

Ichigo sprang off the couch wanting to stop Grimmjow before he made way out that door. "Wait," He called out. After what he's been through this weekend he refused to rack his brain wondering how to make his next move in regards to their relationship. Business, of course. "Can I call you?" He asked, realizing after the fact how that might come off. To save Grimmjow the trouble of turning to look at him funny he quickly clarified. "To buy, I mean. Or should I keep going to Tatsuki's?"

Nnoitra looked to be filled with his devilish spirit and made a suggestion; "Grimm, why don't ya start comin' 'round wid me? Would be a good way for you and the red-head to spend time-"

"Cool," Grimmjow concurred, hardly interested in what Nnoitra may or may not have tried to imply. His friend could have a spree spinning this into something of a gay nature later. Grimm loved his hood, he knew his streets like the back of his hand and was most at ease with the familiar. However, branching out is never a bad idea, figuring if he hung around Orange for a while he'd expose himself to possible clientele. The change of scenery was also a nice touch. Breaking away from the hustle to fuck with the folks on the ritzy side of town made for a compelling switch. He wondered if it was a similar situation with Ichigo. Would explain how the guy was often getting mixed in places where he didn't really belong. Maybe one of these days he would ask him.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Two months later...** _

Grimmjow leaned against the door of his black on black Chevy Camaro and tried to avoid eye contact with the unfamiliar faces. He didn't like the looks they gave him and would lose it if this continued. He gave himself a frisking making sure everything around his waistband was concealed properly, then remembered anything that needed to be concealed wasn't in his possession. As to not cause alarm, he left his piece in the car, checking his waist was simply habit. With one goal in mind he hoped to carry it out as soon as possible. How soon was dependent on Nnoitra, who was of course taking his time arriving.

"Different day, same bullshit," Grimmjow started to call his bestfriend at the same moment he caught the white Hummer out the corner of his eye.

Parking crookedly, Nnoitra hopped out his vehicle and practically ran to greet Grimmjow.

"Sup! He's on his way," He said, smiling wildly. Turning in a full circle, Nnoitra took in the sights with great excitement. "Yo! I needa enroll and take me some classes!"

"Calm yerself, fool. Stop actin' like ya never been nowhere before." Grimmjow said coolly. "What the fuck is takin' so long? Tell 'im to hurry up."

"Nobody rushes my baby, so just wait. If ya miss yers that bad then go search for 'im."

"Mines? Don't fuckin' start. I'm sayin', if this ends up as a wasted trip I'll be pissed."

Laughing, Nnoitra took out his phone to start a new text message. "Aight Grimm, whatever to keep yer impatient ass from goin' off."

* * *

 

"That's one black cherry smoothie topped with vanilla whip cream?" The cashier pushed her fuchsia-colored pigtails over her shoulders and stood ready to input the total in the register.

Ichigo was unenthusiastically sloped on the counter. "Why ask me when you're the one who made it?"

"Will that be all for you today?" Even with her visibly forced smile she managed to keep her tone professional.

"Come on, Riruka. Ain't it always?" The same order and the same girl who rung it up, yet she always asked Ichigo the same questions.

"Just give me the money!" Riruka waited for Ichigo to hold out the bills and snatched them from his hand. "Why are you in such a dank mood today? Girlfriend break up with you?"

"Girlfriend? Yeah, right." Ichigo left the checkout counter with smoothie in hand and scanned the lobby for an empty table.

Watching Ichigo leave, Riruka took her aggravation out on her work station by slamming cup refills hard enough to have her co-workers looking over in confusion. That man genuinely miffed her, how she managed to fall for him was a mystery. For the last month Riruka has been trying to relay her interest. Granted, she's no open book of poems when it comes to expressing emotion, but Ichigo seems oblivious to everything. Admittedly, part the reason she likes him is because of the incognizant nature. Even so, the fact she's never seem him with a woman has her suspicious he isn't even interested in them. That may in fact be less disconcerting than finding out Ichigo purely doesn't find her attractive.

Ichigo sat down and removed his hoodie, then rolled the jacket into a ball to be used as a pillow for resting his head. He hoped no one would feel the need to disturb him as he purposely selected the table furthest from other students. Many came through the campus lobby as it housed the food court and book store, so a classmate was bound to spot him. His last class of the day is to begin in twenty minutes. All he wanted between now and then was to quickly get through everything that happens while coming in contact with as few people as possible. He hadn't become so anti-social that he hated human interaction; he had a legit reason for not wanting to be bothered.

Rarely one to fall ill, Ichigo somehow managed to catch a bout of the flu. Thus began a week in bed, Uryu tending to his needs, making him soup and keeping him hydrated. Ichigo was quite comfortable physically, although the relentless berating and nagging he endured via his caretaker was nothing less than torture. During that period it meant no school and no Grimmjow, the second of the two being a major problem.

The first month after the blue-haired drug dealer appeared in his kitchen the meetings started like clockwork. Every Friday Grimmjow would make his rounds, stay to laze around and smoke while talking about random shit that had nothing to do with anything. The next month that changed and he made more frequent visits, up from one day a week to two. Grimmjow was comfortable in Ichigo's home, but more importantly he was comfortable with Ichigo. It was an unspoken perception between the two. They were more than dealer and customer, their relationship had progressed enough where the friend label was absolutely applicable. So after two months of looking forward to his blue-haired friend's company, Ichigo felt like he was going through a state of withdrawal.

He was still feeling slightly under the weather, which is why he wanted no bother. Conversely, he determined that if he could return to school he could also get together with his dealer. As today being one of their usual days, he very much intended to text about a meeting after this last class. A visit from Grimmjow would make all the difference in his week.

"There he is! Get at ya boy!"

Ichigo was surly losing it now. It was Grimmjow he wanted a visit from. So why was he imagining Nnoitra's voice? The disturbing similarity of being loud like the raucous male had Ichigo smothering his face in the mound of jacket. He hated to sound like Uryu, but did people not understand the use of an inside voice? Now he could feel the presence of someone standing behind him. Just as he planned to see who it was, they grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head off the table. Ichigo was ready to fight until he looked up and saw the face he's been missing for a week.

Once making his presence known in such an inimical way, Grimmjow sat next to Ichigo and went for the smoothie sitting on the table.

"Ain't put yer mouth fulla sick germs on this, did ya?"

"Wouldn't kill ya to say hello normally," Ichigo mumbled, smoothing the back of his hair. "No, but what are you two doin' here?" He asked, looking around for the man whose voice he initially heard. Through the lobby's tall windows he could see Uryu leading Nnoitra away by his arm, mouth moving a mile a minute. "How'd Nnoitra talk ya into this one?"

"He didn't, was my idea. Was bored, so I came here, now let's go."

"Go?"

"As in get yer ass up and let's leave."

Ichigo pulled out his phone and checked the time. "My last class starts in fifteen minutes."

Grimmjow shrugged. "Skip it,"

Ichigo looked from his phone to Grimmjow then back to his phone. Having missed a week's worth of classes due to being sick, he knew it would unwise to skip so soon. Especially this next class, his professor was a real pain in the ass. At the same time, Grimmjow came all the way to his college campus so they could leave together. _"Fuck it,"_ Ichigo thought. He could set aside extra time to complete missed assignments later. It would be foolish to mess up this opportunity.

"Know what," Ichigo stood, already excited about leaving. "I'll hit up one of my classmates - SHIT!" He exclaimed, flumping back into the chair.

"The hell done got into you?" Grimmjow asked, sounding only mildly interest.

"I wanna skip," Ichigo whined. "But I don't think I can. My professor saw me."

"Which one?"

"The guy in black slacks and a tie, he's carrying a briefcase,"

"I got this," Grimmjow assured, leaving the smoothie on the table and making his way to the one of description.

"Grimmjow, no!" With no real way to stop him, Ichigo watched in horror as the blue-haired thug approached his college professor.

"Yo, Teach! Lemme get up wid ya for a sec," Grimmjow said, but was completely ignored. "Damn, are ya deaf?" He then stepped in front the man, blocking his path.

Stopping, the professor looked over his shoulder. "Are you addressing me?"

"Ya seen ain't nobody behind ya." Catching his attention, Grimmjow looked down at the gold plating with a name engraved on the man's briefcase. "Byakuya Kuchiki?" He read out loud.

With a thud, Ichigo's head dropped to the table and he covered his ears with his jacket; he couldn't bear listening. He hoped to all entities good and mighty that Grimmjow didn't get him expelled. There is no way this situation would end in his favor.

"Ichigo,"

The red-head heard a voice through the fabric on his ears and it was far too familiar for his liking. He looked to the one that called his name and confirmed conjecture.

"Oh, Kensei… Sup?" He wasn't exactly thrilled about talking to this guy, but it had been so long since they last interacted seemed no reason to act crude.

"Long time no see," The silver-haired man looked down on Ichigo with a frown, his natural look. "How have you been?"

"Oh, ya know. Doin' pretty good…" Ichigo found the casual conversation forced and somewhat uncomfortable with his ex-boyfriend, but tried to go with the flow. "What about you?"

"A lot of free time on my hands."

"I see," Ichigo was partially distracted by Grimmjow and Byakuya. His professor never gave away his thoughts with facial expressions and Grimmjow looked surprisingly calm.

Byakuya flipped his wrist and checked his watch. "That is the reason you made yourself a nuisance in my path? The system implemented in my grading grid won't allow your request for Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Peep the mug," Grimmjow pointed to his disinterested face. "Do it look like I give a fuck 'bout some grid? And it wasn't no request. I'm just lettin' ya know what's good. "

Ichigo facepalmed and shook his head. "Seriously Grimmjow?"

"Know that guy?" Kensei asked, watching the blue-haired man.

"Unfortunately,"

"Is that who you currently belong to?"

Ichigo cut his eyes at Kensei. "I ain't tradable livestock, I don't belong to anyone." As if it were yesterday, he was beginning to remember the cause of their quarrels. The majority of their relationship was pleasant until they became more serious and Kensei tried to implement his traditional views of relationship roles. Based on his standards, Ichigo wouldn't make a good _wife_. He didn't like to clean, sure as hell couldn't cook and refused to accept being the bottom meant limited say in decisions. They argued about everything from conflicting schedules to burnt toast. After deciding on a break, Kensei's idea of officially calling it quits was getting back together with his on-again, off-again boyfriend.

"I called but your number is inactive." Kensei said.

"I've changed companies since we last talked. Why'd ya try to call?"

"I woke up one morning thinking I smelled burnt toast and thought about you." Kensei's frown softened into a smile.

"Oh? Real funny," Ichigo smiled back. He certainly burnt his fair share of toast while they were together. He could remember there would be loud arguments about his terrible cooking that would turn into loud makeup sex on the kitchen table. One good thing he could say about Kensei is he was a great lover, one of the only noteworthy.

Kensei tossed his phone on the table. "Your new number," He simply said, leaving Ichigo to deduct what to do next.

Ichigo reached for the phone then stopped, having more than one reason to be hesitant. Temped to glance over at Grimmjow, the mere thought of him at the moment was ludicrous in all aspects, but every bit natural for him. Spending longer, more frequent periods together made it impossible to forget he wanted more than friendship, he hadn't let that glimmer of hope fade just yet. However, this most definitely wouldn't deter him from reconnecting with his ex. His greater apprehension was in Kensei's sudden interest after all these months.

"Wanting my number after all this time? What games are ya playing, Kensei?"

"What the hell do you mean? I have no games. All semester I've come through the lobby and not once did I see you until today. You used to come here daily; had me thinking I was being avoided." Kensei crossed is arms and his smile turned confident. "Don't tell me someone like you is still bitter after all these months."

"You got me wrong, I ain't bitter," Annoyed with Kensei's observation, Ichigo snatched up the phone and mashed the screen to enter his number. He had in fact tried to evade him, today being the first time in quite a while that he lingered around campus before or after class. Since the breakup, he purposely timed his lobby visits to elude his silver-haired ex. Naturally, Ichigo had been indignant after being left for someone else, but that was more months than he cared to remember ago and had moved on since then. Being elusive only became habit. At any rate, Ichigo seen nothing wrong with picking at any surface that seemed cracked to reveal the deeper layers. If Kensei in fact didn't have a secret agenda he had no problem giving his new number.

Information set and saved, Kensei reclaimed his cell. "I'll call later, be sure to answer," He said, brow furrowed as he checked the new contact.

With Kensei moving along, Ichigo knew he had to deal with Grimmjow who was still at it with his professor. If things hadn't gotten out of hand, now would be the time to step in.

Byakuya, with eyes slightly narrowed, turned upon his students approach. "Understand, Ichigo, just because your goon explained his impertinent conduct is his own doing, I won't overlook such recalcitrance on your behalf." He said.

Ichigo tried to put on his most apologetic of faces. "It's not like that,-"

Byakuya raised his hand in a halting motion, clearly uninterested in whatever his student had to say. "If you are not present once I take attendance, do expect a zero for your overall participation grade." Sauntering off, he added, "Consider enrolling your bruiser in one of our ESL courses. Heaven knows he needs it."

"The fuck is ESL?" Grimmjow asked.

"It's a class here called English as a Second Language, but we should probably leave." said Ichigo. Even with Byakuya's threat pressing at him, he wouldn't go to class, he was too embarrassed.

"Oh word? My English ain't good 'nough for ya proper talkin, big word using, think ya smart but don't know shit, muthafucka's?" On the verge of shouting, Grimmjow drew attention from all in hearing range.

"Grimmjow, let's just go," Ichigo tried whispering to the man, weary of him becoming too riled. It wouldn't be surprising if someone reported the rowdy thug to campus security.

"That bitch pisses me off. Look at 'im, stiff fool walkin' off like he fucked wid the wrong one and they broke their foot off in his ass." Grimmjow began to crack up at the thought.

Done trying to convince him to leave, Ichigo interlocked both his arms around one of Grimmjow's and proceeded to pull. To his surprise, Grimmjow was coaxed along with little effort and without delay escorted him out the lobby, the man laughing the entire way.

"Jeez, you tryna get me expelled?" Ichigo wanted to be angry, but laughed with him. It was rather funny when he thought about it. "We should get out of here before security shows, you kinda made a scene back there. So ya know, I rode with Uryu today."

"Yeah, yeah, my ride's up ahead."

They walked down a straight cobblestone path past students going in all directions. Some almost tripping over their feet in a scamper while others dragging themselves along like the walking dead. Ichigo noticed no matter what their pace they all took a moment to stare. What the hell was their deal?

"Wait up, Ichigo. You left this,"

Ichigo turned to see Riruka jogging at them with his jacket in hand. As she got closer she slowed to a stop, looking from Ichigo to Grimmjow, then at the way Ichigo was hugging the man's arm.

"…Your jacket. It was… Here, just take it!" She said, frown yanking at her mouth. In advance of Ichigo's appreciation she threw the hoodie at him and sprinted back from where she came.

"Thanks?" Ichigo said confusedly, placing the article over his shoulder. He wondered why Riruka was acting strange. That girl seemed to always be in some kind of mood around him. In his confusion, the man he'd been holding on to snatched away.

So gone with laughter, Grimmjow hadn't paid much attention to the fact Ichigo was clinging to him until he noticed that girl's reaction. Watching eyes could easily misconstrue the two men were a couple.

"Ain't gonna have people thinkin' I'm some kinda fruit." He said.

Ichigo adjusted the jacket on his shoulder and shrugged. A straight man walking arm and arm with another man while assuming eyes stared them down, he could understand Grimmjow's point of view and tried not to take offense. Instead, he walked beside Grimmjow until they came to the parking lot. Almost to the car, security had just arrived on the scene, two uniformed men followed the path they recently left leading to the lobby. Ichigo couldn't believe he was actually skipping class and the trouble he dealt with coming this far. Even with no idea where they would go or what they would do, he was quite thrilled. In high spirits, when he passed one of his classmates in the lot he spoke with great enthusiasm.

"Hey there, Keigo! Have fun in class."

"Ichi, hey man," The brown-haired male continued past Ichigo then stopped and did a one-eighty. "Wait a second, where are you going?"

Ichigo smiled over his shoulder. "Don't know, but it ain't class."

"What!" Keigo theatrically gasped. "No, you have to," He began to trail Ichigo. "What about our project?"

Grimmjow walked the few steps left to his Camaro to unlocked the doors while Ichigo stopped to address his friend.

"Don't worry, I'll have my part finished tonight." Ichigo said, patting Keigo's shoulder hoping to calm his concerns.

"But, you can't leave me in Kuchiki's class alone, I'll die of boredom." Keigo wined, throwing his arms around Ichigo.

"Keigo you moron, quit it," Ichigo tried pushing him off, this behavior was nothing new. He's known Keigo since high school and he's always been dramatic. They've matured to college age and he still has not changed.

Grimmjow watched from a spot against his door, assuming the two must be very close friends. The brown haired one was awfully touchy-feely, draped on Ichigo, squeezing him, face in his neck as he rambled on. For some unexplainable reason it became provoking to see and the longer he watched the more annoyed he became. He didn't know why, but felt the need to yell, or do something similar as a release.

Grimmjow waltz over to Ichigo and snatched him away from Keigo by his upper arm. "The fuck is goin' through yer brain? Yer on my time, quit fuckin' around."

Noting the threat with caution, Keigo slowly backed away. "Well then… So, Ichi, I'll text you later," He said, turning and speedily walking off. From his point of view it looked like a domestic issue that he wanted no parts of. Ichigo's tough, he can handle himself.

After months of dealing with Grimmjow's literal in your face personality, Ichigo had accustomed himself to his rugged ways. While it was clear Grimmjow is not the one to fuck with, he could no longer be so easily shaken by the scare tactics.

"What's your problem? You're gonna leave a freakin' bruise on my arm."

Yeah, what _was_ his problem? Grimmjow had no intentions of answering him, and had he wanted to he could give no reasoning behind his behavior. He wasn't so much upset with Ichigo as he was this anger he didn't understand.

"Shut up and get in," Grimmjow ordered, then took it upon himself to drag Ichigo around to the passenger's side, push him in and slam the door. With a bewildered scowl, he hustled over to the driver's side to get the show on the road. Similar to a motion-detection device, Ichigo's head mechanically turned with his every move.

Passing on the opportunity to watch scenery out his window, Ichigo instead analyzed his driver. He was trying to figure out what took place back in the school parking lot. At some point between being grabbed up and thrown in the car he dropped his hoodie. That was no scare tactic, Grimmjow was earnestly mad. It appeared to Ichigo as jealousy, but that couldn't be the case, could it?

"Ya gotta eye problem?" Grimmjow asked. "Stop starin' and turn the radio on or some shit."

Ichigo snapped his head forward and took Grimmjow's advice. He wasn't familiar with the Camaro's radio and just pressed buttons until he heard static. He fumbled some more until he figured out how to tune and turned to his favorite top forty station. He wasn't that into the current track of what sounded like bubblegum pop, but the beat was catchy enough and hoped it would at least lighten the mood.

_-And if yooooou, you want me tooooo,_  
Let's make a mooove – YEAH!  
So tell me girl if every time we,  
TO-U-CH  
You get this kinda,  
R-U-SH  
Baby say – YEAH, YEAH, YEAH!-

Grimmjow tightened his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening with his frustrated squeezing. "The fuck is this we're listenin' to? Orange, yer givin' me a headache."

"What!? How is your headache my fault?" Ichigo was being drive up a wall with all the cussing and complaining about everything he did. "Where the hell are we headed, anyway?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Keep yer lids open and you'll see when we get there." In truthfulness, Grimmjow wasn't sure himself. On a whim he told Ichigo to skip class with no particular reason other than he was bored. "In the meantime, shut up and change the station."

Ichigo sank down on the dark, leather seat thinking how he risked grades for this kind of treatment. "Feels like I'm bein' kidnapped." He grumbled.

"Yer irritatin' as fuck. No sane muthafucka would kidnap you."

Ichigo deciding not to argue back knowing it would be a non-stop circle and Grimmjow would only become more belligerent. With his mood steadily declining he wasn't very interested in all the bullshit. Pressing buttons, he listened in-between pauses until hearing something that might suit the thug. Coming across the slow, piano melody of an R&B track, he left it there and turned towards the window, resting his head against his fist while feeling dispirited.

He would never admit it, but Grimmjow was starting to feel an emotion he thought long abandoned - guilt. There was no valid reason to be so brusque with Orange. Sure, he'd been a jerk towards him before, but it was more lighthearted and actually funny. The glum look burdening Ichigo's features, he couldn't laugh or get any enjoyment from of that. His demeanor affected the atmosphere in the car to the point where something had to be done. Grimmjow wouldn't apologize, but would try to move towards smoothing the situation out. He's never before been in this spot with another man and decided to stick with that he knows and approach the matter in the same manner he would with a woman. Since Ichigo is a catcher, as he likes to call it, he's kind of like a girl in his book anyway. Of course knowing that Ichigo is in fact not a chick he would be sure to not cross certain boundaries.

"Over there sulkin' and shit. Yer upset, ain't ya?" Grimmjow asked the obvious and wasn't totally surprised when Ichigo neglected his effort, flat out ignoring him. "I told ya 'bout openin' yer mouth and respondin' when we talk. Stop sittin' there like yer clocks ain't tickin'."

Ichigo was starting to get annoyed now, thinking Grimmjow had quite the nerve. "You're one to talk about tickin' clocks with the way you act. Either ya want me to shut up or respond. Which the hell is it? And don't ask if I'm mad because I know you don't give a fuck. Seriously, you're just insane."

The only individuals who talked to Grimmjow so boldly were in the safe zone of being considered family, anyone else didn't know of his reputation or simply had a death wish. Instead of having his normal urge to bash in the mouth of someone so audacious, Grimmjow actually gained a little respect for Ichigo after the man spoke his mind.

_-Call me crazy - sh_t, at least you're callin,_  
Feels better when you let it out don't it girl,  
Know it's easy to get caught up in the moment  
When you say it's cus you mad then you take it all back  
Then we fu_k all night 'til things get right-

Grimmjow cracked a smile and glanced over at his passenger. "Orange, go in my pocket, get what's in there and roll me up."

Ichigo noticed the amicable change in Grimmjow's tone but refused to give in to whatever tactic he was using, keeping his gaze on the trees passing outside his window and remaining resistant. "Let me guess, your pocket is full of razor blades?"

"I wouldn't do ya like that. Come on, stop trippin'," Grimmjow reached over and gently pinched at Ichigo's side.

The result was the red-head nearly jumping through the roof. Grimmjow has never been playful and most definitely never touched him in such a way, this was so shocking to Ichigo it bordered being frightening. At the same time he was receptive to it, his face felt hot and he tried to fight a smile.

"Fine," Ichigo said softly, the opposition already fading. He slowly slid his hand in Grimmjow's pocket, feeling around until his fingers touched a small, slender box of rolling papers, bag of weed and lighter. He extracted the items and analyzed them. Even after his lessons from the professional on joint rolling he had no clue if his own technique would produce something pleasing to his dealer. When finished, he lit the joint to make sure everything was on the up and up and stuck it in Grimmjow's mouth so he could continue to focus on the road.

"I'm lettin' ya know now, ya might not like the way I roll mine," Ichigo gave his forewarning.

Grimmjow examined the quality of work by pressing it with his lips. "Nah, it's nice and tight. Good job," He punctuated his approval by smiling surly. Not only did he roll it right, but Grimmjow was pleased that Ichigo went as far as putting it right in his mouth without being instructed.

"Really? I mean thanks, I guess." Ichigo wanted to curse that splendid smile full of perfect pearls. A flash of Grimmjow's grin would allow simple words of praise to convince someone they've achieved something remarkable even when they hadn't done anything special at all. It also made it far too easy to forgive his earlier behavior. Like none of their arguments transpired, Ichigo could be excited once more for the day ahead.

They rolled to a stop on an unpaved road next to a water front. Ichigo could see wrought metal benches, chipped, picnic tables with initials and gang symbols carved in the wood and a surrounding of trees in what was clearly an unkempt park. They were on Grimmjow's half of the city so he wasn't familiar with the area. Waiting in silence, they sat while blue eyes checked the rear-view mirror.

" _Not this again,"_ Ichigo thought. "Grimmjow, what are you looking for?" He asked.

Grimmjow raised his pointer finger, telling Ichigo to wait. A few more seconds of watching then he reached under the seat for his gun. Ichigo's eyes doubled in size and he anxiously gripped the edges of the seat under him. He was afraid, not understanding why Grimmjow needed his weapon, but also excited from not knowing what was going to happen next. One finger on the trigger and the other hand on the car door, without warning Grimmjow hopped out, aimed across the lot and consecutively fired two shots.

What followed the air cracking booms were feminine shrieks and the loud screech of tires. Ichigo's color went from light-peach to ghost-white in the blink of an eye. For fear of his safety, he ducked down low in the seat, arms covering his head. His thoughts raced in several directions, thinking how sitting through a drawn-out lecture in Kuchiki's class would be pretty great right about now, to remembering something peculiar he noticed during the ride over. When unhappy with Grimmjow and watching out the window, in the side-view mirror he noticed a particular dark vehicle that tailed them at a distance. Coincidence?

"Fuck!" Ichigo exclaimed. "I knew somethin' wasn't right about that black car."

"What'd ya mean?" Grimmjow questioned calmly. "Got yer shit mixed up, their car's white."

"Their car's white?" Ichigo copied, still covering his head. "What's happening?"

"Are ya a damn parrot? Yeah, it's white, and ain't shit happenin'." Grimmjow leaned against the car and tapped an upbeat tune on the Camaro's roof. "Quit cowerin' like a bitch and get out. They're gone." He said, crouching down to put his gun back under the seat.

"They who? And don't call me a bitch." Ichigo was sitting up now, confused and glaring.

"Just a couple of stalkin' bitches. I don't like nobody followin' me, so I was scarin' 'em off. Ain't see nobody in a black car, yer trippin'." He said, shutting his door and going to sit on top of a picnic table.

"Ain't trippin," Ichigo said in the empty vehicle, more for his own reassurance. He observed enough to know the dark car wasn't his imagination, although it must have been a coincidence after all. Ichigo turned his head in every direction, checking the area for anything suspicious before getting out and joining Grimmjow on the picnic table. He needed something after that to settle his nerves and held out his hand for a pass.

Grimmjow looked at him out the corner of his eye. "Weren't ya sick?"

"I'm better now, so I'll be fine."

"Nah, chill,"

"You're sayin' after that treatment ya won't even let me smoke? Are ya worried about my health? I mean what's the point of bringing me to this lousy place?" Ichigo's own questions had him curious. "Are we here just because ya wanna hang out with me?"

Blue eyebrows furrowed, Ichigo was starting to hit the wrong nerves. "Dammit, Orange! Why the fuck are ya askin' so many questions? Hm," Grimmjow grunted through an exhale of haze, pointing to what he was smoking.

Ichigo held out his hand again for a pass he wouldn't get. Instead, Grimmjow inhaled deeply, held his breath and sat the joint in a dip on the picnic table. Unable to talk, with his index finger he beckoned the other man. Ichigo scooted until they were in close proximity, not understanding what Grimmjow was trying to do. With both hands, Grimmjow formed a tight cup around Ichigo's nose and mouth, then placed his own face on the other end and slowly blew the held smoke in the enclosed space. His breath hit Orange like a hot, herbal sedative; the effects almost made his head whirl and had him feeling fuzzy. Grimmjow blew until there was nothing left then broke the cup and settled back on his hands.

"What we just did, what'd ya call that?" Ichigo asked, caressing his face where Grimmjow's hands had been, knowing his cheeks had to be pink.

Grimmjow smirked when he seen the blush. "Never done a shotgun before? Wasn't lettin' ya put yer sick germs all over this shit."

"Well… Well that's just dumb." Feeling embarrassed for some reason, Ichigo turned to look out at the water. "You could still catch my cold."

Grimmjow disagreed with a shake of his head. "I'm the one blowin', how can I catch somethin'?" He looked at Ichigo like he was about as smart as a bag of rocks.

"Actually, you touched my face. The number one way to spread a cold is through touch."

"College muthafucka's act like they know everything." Grimmjow lifted his foot and attempted to push Ichigo off the picnic table with it.

Ichigo braced himself by holding on to the wooden top and pushing away the aggressing limb. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're so abrasive." No surprise they can't sit and enjoy each other's company without Grimmjow acting a fool.

"Nah, yer too sensitive. Somebody needa expose yer ass to some real shit."

Ichigo's been exposed to plenty these last three months, especially considering he's spent most of his life sheltered from the violent reality of the other half of his own city. Grimmjow was displaying convenient memory loss, there is no way he could have forgotten their first encounter. Stumbling upon a bloodied, bullet struck body was some pretty real shit. What did Ichigo do after that? Did he run home and never leave his safe confines again? No, he went and befriended the shooter. No matter how much he enjoyed being around Grimmjow, for the most part anyway, that's one thing he had never and could never forget. He always wanted to ask about the day they meet. It would forever gnaw at him if he didn't. Today could be as good a day as any. Ichigo looked around checking the area for anyone that might overhear. He seen they had adequate privacy, but leaned a little closer to Grimmjow anyway and spoke low.

"The day we met. Ya know, the stuff I seen in the alley… "

"Hol' up, why are ya whisperin' in my ear and breathin' down the side of my neck? It's makin' me feel some kinda way, back up. Ya wanna know why I killed dude or some shit?"

"Yeah, it's been botherin' me."

Other than with Nnoitra, Grimmjow never discussed the details of work. Besides an obvious security precaution, he really doesn't feel comfortable with most people. This was a special circumstance however; Ichigo seen with his own two eyes the reality of his line of work. Raising his arms in a loud stretch and lying back on the table, with interlocked fingers cushioning his head Grimmjow got comfortable like he was getting ready for a long story.

"I'm the kinda man that believes there's certain boundaries ya don't cross when it comes to respect, feel me?"

"I feel ya," Ichigo said, attentively twisting his body to Grimmjow.

"My boss keeps a tight circle. Gotta be special circumstances 'fore yer allowed to hustle off our shit. He was that, ya know, a special circumstance. Got trusted wid a load and tried to skip."

Ichigo shook his head as he listened, only partly understanding what's being said. "So, he was stealing?"

"Basically. Boss was gonna just fire 'im 'til he got disrespectful and pissed me off, so I handled it.

"So, that's why ya kill him?"

Grimmjow yawned, the subject already beginning to bore him. "More or less,"

So that was it. The big question that had troubled him for months, yet after finally getting his answer Ichigo didn't feel much different. He was relieved in a sense, that looming cloud of curiosity drifted away but that was about it. No off-putting thoughts regarding Grimmjow and all optimistic feelings still intact. He wasn't disregarding or accepting the taking of another's life, but he wasn't completely ignorant to the ways of the streets either. He's watched enough gangster crime dramas to know if you chose to partake in that lifestyle there could be deadly outcomes. Now having a real-life, firsthand account just confirms it.

"I bet seein' a body toughened yer punk ass up a little." Grimmjow teased.

Ichigo grinned. "Whatever, I was never a punk." The grin softened with a memory recall that turned the conversation serious. "Not like it's the first time I seen a dead body."

"Lemme find out yer a hitman or some unexpected shit." Grimmjow chuckled, and then actually considered it. "Yer not, are ya? Cus I don't play that, 'surprise muthafucka, I'm Agent 47', type shit."

"It's not like that," Ichigo creased his brow a little. "The summer before I started kindergarten I watched my mom die after a car accident."

"Oh… that's fucked up,"

"Yeah, I had a rough time dealin' until I met Uryu in school. His mom died that same year."

"Damn, Glasses' mom too?"

Ichigo nodded and sighed. "While I wouldn't wish that kind of tragedy on anyone, back then I was just happy to have someone to relate too. Kinda brought us together, ya know, as we've been best friends since."

"Man, ya'll was-"

"Punks?" Ichigo cut him off. "Maybe, but we were young."

"Nah, I was 'bout to say lucky. If ya had my moms you'd know what I mean."

Last thing Ichigo wanted to do was distress the thug by prying too far into his personal business. However, knowing this might be his only chance to learn intimate details about Grimmjow's life, he couldn't let this chance slip away . "Tell me, what's your mom like?"

Grimmjow sat up and looked out at the gently rolling waters slashing against jagged rocks. Now would be a great time to mention the incoming tide, fuss about how late it's getting and say just about anything to change the subject. Mom was a rather touchy and rarely visited topic. Other than his make-shift family of Nnoitra, Kukaku and Yoruichi, there wasn't anyone who knew of the turbulent history he had with his mother. He didn't talk about it because it conjured feelings of abandonment and dejection, feelings that could make him vulnerable, feelings he didn't have time or energy for. As a hardened, dope-dishing thug, how would he appear having momma issues? The hood would take him as a joke and he had a reputation to maintain.

"Nah," Grimmjow decided to refuse. "No point, where yer from you'd never understand my shit anyway."

After all Grimmjow has put him through today, this was the first time Ichigo looked to be sincerely offended and downright disgusted. "Damn, you're prejudice now? Where I'm from has nothin' to do with my ability to be understanding. We're just havin' a conversation… between friends."

When the time was right Ichigo sure knew how to make his point convincing. Grimmjow actually began to rethink his stance. Now considering it, the upside of Ichigo not being from his hood meant street credibility held little significance. Until this point, he never thought it was possible to maintain a friendship with anyone who didn't at least grow up around his lifestyle. Ichigo was different, despite their difference in background he was cool. Sometimes he talks too fucking much but it was alright because he's mostly laidback and had never been judging, which was most important. While Grimmjow preferred to keep the kettle closed, it was nice to vent the steam every now and then. He loudly cracked his knuckles, asserting his tough guy persona as the following recollection may make him feel and look like anything but.

"Aight, ya wanna go there? Then let's go. Moms was normal for a while. Worked as a maid for these rich bastards makin' decent money and on days off she'd take me out. She went loopy after my pops got cancer when I was seven. While he was in a hospice dyin', she was sniffin' cocaine and bringin' dudes home to fuck. That's if she came home. Usual shit was not poppin' up for days while she was doped the fuck out. When she wasn't coked out 'er mind, she'd have Nnoi's people look after me. They made sure a muthafucka ate and had clothes on his back." Grimmjow unconsciously started twisting at the sapphire ring on his finger. "At one point, she got clean, said she'd do right and gave me this ring of my pops. Everything was aight for a minute, then one day I came home from school and my shit was gone, sold so she could buy herself some snow. Rinse and repeat pattern of bullshit 'till the last time she came off the dope. Went back to 'er old maid job but was fuckin' the boss. Said he wanted to wife 'er up, take us both out the hood. He had a kid too, so we were 'posed to meld on some Brady Bunch type shit. She left me at Nnoi's while they got the house and shit together. Course I was happy and believed she'd changed, waited for shit that ain't happen. I was a dumb fuck back then."

Ichigo hadn't heard the half of it, what he just listened too was the short version and he was lucky to get that. They would be sitting amidst each other until nightfall participating in what would feel like a therapy session had Grimmjow told the whole story. Even though they were friends that scenario would never take place, some things that happened during the troubling childhood would never be revealed.

"Believing in your mom didn't make you a dumb kid." Ichigo wasn't sure what to say and tried offering comforting words. "So, she didn't get married?" He was curious about what happened next and encouraged him to continue.

"Hell if I know, ain't see 'er again for another three years, and that was thirteen years ago. Don't know if she's alive or dead. Not that I give a fuck anymore."Grimmjow laughed to hide the distant, sullen look in his eyes. He really, really hated this subject.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo sympathized, as that's all he could do. It took every bit of strength he had to stop himself from wrapping arms around Grimmjow and giving him a big, consoling hug. Even aware of the risks he could get his ass kicked and/or shot, he was still very much tempted. He could see the withdrawn look in Grimmjow's beautiful blues like he was trying to stay disconnected from his past and the feelings for his mother.

"Don't need yer pity," Grimmjow could see reiterations of remorse in Ichigo's eyes, they were also filled with something he didn't recognize. No one had ever looked at him in such a way and it made him feel the opposite of what he wanted to feel. He was still high maybe, because the soft glisten of the rich, earthy browns were captivating. This two-pronged feelings of comfort yet unease and that was confusing. Grimmjow didn't like being confused.

"The fuck are ya lookin' at me like that for?" He snarled. "Cut the weird shit wid yer eyes."

Baffled, Ichigo thought over the last few seconds trying to figure out if he'd done anything out the ordinary. He obviously hadn't, and could only suspect the subject of discussion created a tensed setting. Since his eyes were apparently doing strange things, he elected to watch the going ons across the street from the park. It might prove to ease some of Grimmjow's stress since he wasn't looking him directly in the face. A straight row of houses, individuals walking to their respective locations and a group of young men occupying the corner, none of that was worth watching, although he did notice something else in his scan that could be worth bringing to Grimmjow's attention.

Ichigo pointed across the way at a white vehicle creeping along the block. "That's not the car that's been stalkin' ya, is it?"

Grimmjow quickly rotated around and only a glimpse was enough to have him produce a run-on of expletives. Without a heads-up he shoved Ichigo sending him flying off the table to the hard-packed dirt, then promptly dove off after, landing square on top the red-head. When Ichigo imagined himself underneath Grimmjow for the first time, this isn't how he pictured it. Grimmjow's hard landing thoroughly knocked the air out of Ichigo's lungs. Blue hair wasn't a small guy to begin with and felt to weigh twice as much as he appeared. At the same time, Ichigo felt Grimmjow's knee pressed firmly against his groin, every time he moved, even an inch, it was felt. Sadly, there could be no enjoyment from it while he was struggling to refill his lungs – erotic asphyxiation wasn't his fetish.

Ichigo wiggled to one side making it more comfortable to breath. "Jeez," He griped, "What the-"

"Keep yer trap shut and don't fuckin' move." Grimmjow growled, stretching his neck to view the street from his position on the ground.

What was discernible is this wasn't one of Grimmjow's spontaneous crazy spells, but if something was about to go down, Ichigo wanted to know what. Unlucky for him, for the second time that day his answer unraveled in the form of gunfire. A shiver radiated from within and his entire body shook upon hearing the spray of bullets that could come from nothing other than a submachine gun. It sounded as if they were lying right next to an explosion of fireworks. He hardly comprehended when Grimmjow cradled his head with his arms and huddled over him, hugging his body and acting as his human shield. People screaming, tires screeching, and his heart tap-danced in his chest. Despite all the chaos, in that moment Ichigo felt a sense of solace under the larger man and returned the embrace, wrapping his arms tight around Grimmjow's back.

* * *

Songs:  
One Direction – Kiss You  
Rick Ross feat. Wale and Drake – Diced Pineapple *Radio Edit


	9. Chapter 9

When the drive-by came to an end and all had calmed, Grimmjow lifted his head to survey the scene. "Fuck, it wasn't them. I ain't the target, we're good." He said.

Too shaken, Ichigo couldn't articulate a statement that expressed his relief. Even though it was over, he kept his arms around Grimmjow not wanting that feeling of security to end. It was the first time he'd embraced him, and for all he knew it was the last.

"Fuck this, we're leavin'," As Grimmjow tried to stand he found himself hindered by the clinging other. "Orange, get off, I said we're good," Visually connecting with Ichigo, he was more than a little perturbed to see him doing that _thing_ with his eyes once more, only this time it was intensified by fear and generated an effect that temporarily rendered him motionless. Ichigo took advantage of this, going as far as sliding his hands up Grimmjow's back in a slow caress that sent chills down the man's spine and sparks to his cock. Still, Grimmjow couldn't more, and this frustrated him to no end as having no doubts his strength could overpower Ichigo. Yet here he was, trapped by two, almond-shaped, cinnamon-brown eyes. How was that even possible?

A nerve ratting wail echoed through the block reminding Ichigo the time and place was hardly appropriate or romantic, so he let Grimmjow free and they both stood. As soon as they were on their feet, Grimmjow threw Ichigo against a tree, pressing his forearm into his chest.

"Don't know what the fuck ya did just now, but do it again and yer gettin' decked, understand?" That momentary loss of control left him feeling vulnerable. He was quite tempted to make Ichigo rectify it with blood, but decided right now a warning would suffice. Especially since he was still trying to figure out what exactly happened.

"Yeah, I'm… I mean, I didn't mean to," Ichigo looked off to the side, it's been a while since the intensity of those vibrant, blue orbs made it difficult to maintain eye contact. He felt embarrassed having tried to take advantage under these circumstances. As the images of their backdrop sunk into his conscious, then did he truly realize what kind of situation they were in. Across the street, the body of a young man lay bleeding over the curb. If that wasn't saddening enough, next to him on the corner, a woman was kneeled over the unresponsive body of a boy who looked to be no older than fourteen. She screamed and sobbed uncontrollably, shaking the boy and calling his name even though it was obvious those efforts couldn't rouse him.

The grisly reality hit Ichigo like a knife to the gut. "Is… Is he dead?"

The woman's anguished cries stabbed at even the hardest of hearts. Grimmjow felt for them, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. Sadly, a scene like that was not uncommon. His only priority now was making sure to be nowhere in the area once law enforcement arrived. It could spell unnecessary trouble, especially if anyone identified his Camaro.

Grimmjow pushed Ichigo towards the car and motioned for him to quickly get in. "Who cares, let's go,"

Ichigo found Grimmjow's callous words offensive. "What the fuck do you mean who cares? He's only a kid for fucks sake. Shouldn't we try to help?"

Sighing heavily, Grimmjow grabbing the male by his shirt collar and pushed him against the vehicle. "Anybody asks, you ain't see or hear nothin', yer not gettin' involved. Those corner boys were dealers, just like me. Actin' like ya understand our way of life when it's clear ya don't know a damn thing."

"What's to understand? You're animals that don't value shit, not even life." Consumed by emotion, Ichigo lost himself. He slapped Grimmjow's hand then shoved him hard as he could.

Flying backwards, Grimmjow landed right on his ass. In disbelief, he sat there looking at Ichigo through astonished eyes. He never expected the man to be daring enough to put hands on him, let alone be strong enough to take him off his feet. With vision tapering with anger, he recovered from surprise soon enough and jumped back to a standing position.

The look on Grimmjow's face zoned Ichigo back into his somewhat good senses and he realized the error in his actions. Instinctively, his body triggered a fight-or-flight response and he bravely formed a fighting stance. Grimmjow took that as an invitation and came charging like a bull. Ichigo focused, watching his movements carefully and just managed a side step that saved him from being tackled. He readied his fists hoping to land a single knock-out punch on the taller man, not wanting to think about what would happen if he failed. He wished it hadn't come to this, but now wasn't the time for such thoughts. In a reckless attempt to get this hit in, Ichigo initiated the next set of moves in a hook aimed at Grimmjow's temple.

To his amazement, and alarm, in a sharp, boxing bounce-step, Grimmjow hopped on his toes, dodging with unexpectedly quick and graceful maneuvers. First it was by his wrist, then hair, Grimmjow caught Ichigo, hurling his back against the car with a force that rocked the Camaro and made the smaller man wince. As expected, Ichigo struggled and Grimmjow had to use all his weight to hold the red-head stationary long enough to wrap hands around his throat. Not larynx crushingly so, but with enough pressure to stint airflow and send the message he wasn't fucking around.

"Must be out yer damn mind." Grimmjow growled through bared teeth. "I'll squeeze the life outta ya and then toss ya in the river, right here, right now."

Scared for his life, Ichigo grabbed at Grimmjow's wrists and frantically tried to remove the hands from his neck, even using his nails to dig into flesh. This did nothing other than irritate the thug further who tightened his grip and caused Ichigo's breaths to come in short, desperate gasps. He didn't ease off even when noticing the glint from tears welling in Ichigo's pleading eyes. As decided they would be friends, he would be sure Ichigo learned his place. The back talk and arguing was tolerable, even amusing, but putting hands on him was a horse of a different color. He had no intentions of doing serious, deadly harm, though that didn't make his threat less valid. If Ichigo got too crazy, Grimmjow couldn't guarantee the man's safety. When sincerely provoked, he had no control over any resulting impulsive acts of violence, and considering he liked Ichigo, he wanted to avoid killing him. So in his mind, this was for Ichigo's benefit.

"Oh dear, lovers' quarrel?"

Grimmjow didn't have to see the face to recognize the man. He knew the voice well, and it easily added to his irritation. "Gin, shut the fuck up and keep it movin'." He said, not taking his eyes of Ichigo.

"Hello to you too, sexy. As friendly as ever, I see. Quite the doll ya got there. Might wanna ease up, I don't think he can breathe."

"Might wanna mind yer business, 'less ya wanna take his place."

Initially, Ichigo was too concerned for his wellbeing to give the interjecting male his attention, but it seemed the intentions of this Gin person were in his favor and it intrigued him enough to catch a glimpse. Tall and slender, Gin's body was covered by a thin, white sweat suit, of which the hood concealed most of his hair. The remnants showing were that of a silver fringe over eyes narrowed to slits, and he had a smile that stretched across his face almost creepily.

"Don't tease me, Grimm. You know how I like to roughhouse. Heard ya been spending an awful lot of time across the tracks fucking some orange-haired cutie. To think, all those times I tried to get in your pants only to be denied. Although, there was that one time-"

"I ain't playin', Gin, shut the fuck up." Grimmjow released Ichigo and turned to deal with his new annoyance. "What's this shit ya heard?"

"Hmm, did they say fucking or friending?" Gin tapped a finger to the side of his head feigning deep thought. "I suppose the details don't matter. Guess the rumors are true."

"Rumors? Who the fuck started rumors?"

"My, my, I do believe I've said too much. Guess I'll be going."

As Gin walked off, Grimmjow stopped him by grabbing the back of his sweat jacket. "Answer my question 'fore I box the grin off yer face."

"You'd do best to unhand me. My darling wouldn't be pleased if he knew I've been manhandled and threatened. Don't forget he's above your Kukaku. I could have your entire clique wiped out." Still smiling, Gin referenced the annihilation of a group of people in a casual manner, the same manner in which he decides whether to have milk or lemon in his morning tea.

Knowing the truth in such a statement, Grimmjow reluctantly let him go. He remembered a time when Gin didn't have this darling of his to fall on for threats. The two spent most of grade school and part of high school in the same classes, but could hardly call each other friends. Their relationship consisted of Gin shamelessly flirting with the straight male, and in return Grimmjow threatening to do bodily harm. They dropped out of school around the same age, Gin becoming a pricey, popular escort in the area. He was respected for his ability to snag higher end clients from the more prosperous side of the city, so much so, that call girls and boys requested to work under him and learn his secrets. Eventually, he drew the attention of the most renowned crime boss on the coast - a man whose true identity is known only to those in his immediate inner circle. This man had fallen so in love that he snatched Gin out the business to exclusively be his own. With an infatuation that bordered obsession, anyone who so as much looked at Gin funny would be dealt with in extreme ways by this darling of his _,_ if Gin willed it.

As well respected as Kukaku is in their world, Grimmjow knows she's only a third notch on the totem pole with two other key marks above her. If she fell out the higher ups good graces, she might as well drop off the map altogether.

"Gin, what the fuck ya doin' in these parts? Thought yer pimp kept ya on a leash."

"I'm merely reminiscing in my old playgrounds." Gin stuck out his foot and lifted his pant leg to expose a diamond encrusted tether, his darling's customized tracking device. "It's not a leash, more like a security precaution."

"Whatever. Shit like that's for dogs."

"Don't forget kittens," Gin pawed at Grimmjow's chest, and then jumped back giggling when the man tried to slap him.

In the distance, the distressing sirens of an ambulance reminded the men of their depressing environment.

"Nothing ever changes here," Gin signed. "Well, I'm off." He smiled at Ichigo who was looking rather upset, holding his neck and watching all in silence. "If you ever need work, look me up," He said, handing him a black business card.

Before Ichigo had a chance to accept the proffered rectangle of paper, Grimmjow snatched it from Gin's fingers. Reading the elegant silver script, he could grasp it advertised Gin's own escort agency and immediately tossed the card over his shoulder.

"Fuck outta here, damn trick-ass hoe. He ain't interested." He said. The fact he had no right to make that decision for Ichigo never crossed his mind.

With no energy to argue, Ichigo remained reticent. He had no clue what sort of work they referred to, and left to speculate assumed drugs were likely involved. In which case, Grimmjow's statement was somewhat on par with his thoughts.

Shrugging, Gin stuck his hands in his pockets and started to trek off. "Should really be nicer to me, Grimm, might need my help one day."

Grimmjow waved him off. "Doubt it,"

"Ya never know," Gin gave one last grin over his shoulder.

The hair on Grimmjow's neck bristled when he recognized Gin's eyes weren't hidden by narrowed lids and he got a glimpse of the rarely seen, indescribably blue irises. So rare, in all their years knowing each other it was the second time he'd ever seen them. Those eyes came with a sense of foreboding that had him wondering if he should actually take Gin's implication seriously. Though at the present, it was nothing he would concern himself with.

"Aight, in the car," Grimmjow ordered, speaking in a softer tone than usual. The thrill of the moment has passed and Ichigo's miserable demeanor almost had him regret his earlier actions.

Ichigo hesitated, but got in the vehicle nonetheless. He considered finding a bus stop knowing how dangerous it is to walk these streets, but figuring riding with the blue haired psycho might not be any safer. What had the potential to be a spectacular day ending up being one of the worse he's had, even rivaling the day he was carjacked. Just when he thought Grimmjow and he had taken a leap forward in understanding each other better, they fumble and fall two steps backwards. There were just some issues where they would never be in agreement. How any human could desensitize themselves to seeing someone gunned down in the street was beyond his comprehension. If this is a way of life then Grimmjow was correct, he didn't understand it. Today isn't the first day he figured out his fascination could be dangerous, but this is the first time the realization of what could have been weighed so heavily on his heart.

"Could've been us," Ichigo mumbled in disbelief, knowing had Grimmjow been the actual target they both could be dead.

Starting the car, Grimmjow didn't feel inclined to discuss it, but for the sake of easing some of Ichigo's distress and dodging what might be a long, grating ride filled with melancholic prattle, he offered a few words. "Nah, I had ya. Shit, I protected yer punk ass 'fore I protected myself. If anything, it woulda been me."

The ride was plagued with silence while Ichigo digested that information. Replaying the seconds before the shooting, he knew Grimmjow had pushed him to the ground first and once the gunfire began, he remembered how his head and body were sheltered. This puzzled him greatly. Why had Grimmjow taken such actions? A human shield could only hope to stop or slow bullets by allowing them to pass through their own flesh first. The thought produced a visible shiver. Ichigo's heart began beating faster, all the feelings for Grimmjow he left simmering on the back burner began to boil and bubble over. Had the mood not been so dismal he would laugh at the fact these feelings were for a man that choked and threatened to kill him minutes earlier. He hated to rationalize Grimmjow's erratic and abusive behavior, but to be fair he had pushed him. Knowing he tried to fight that man and left with a fully functional and intact body left him more appreciative than anything.

Grimmjow too was in thought. He hadn't considered his actions, in reflex his body moved in a way that felt natural, which in his opinion shouldn't have been natural at all. His own well being is priority, and yet his instinct was to protect Ichigo? Then afterwards how he was paralyzed by the look in his eyes, it was all too confusing. As much as he was dreading a conversation involving any of this, it was time to get another's opinion. Sadly, Nnoitra is the only one he can talk to about such things. He could see his best friend now, clapping crazily and damn near falling out the chair in laughter, saying something ridiculous like, "I always knew yer ass was GAY!"

"No the fuck I ain't!" Grimmjow hollered out in a defensive reaction, causing Ichigo to turn to him with bewilderment creasing his brow. Though neither of them said anything else and finished the drive brooding.

When they pulled up to Ichigo's residence, neither male was sure what to say before departure.

"Thanks for bringing me home," Ichigo said, not wanted to later regret awkwardly leaving wordlessly.

Just as he set his foot out the door, Grimmjow grabbed his elbow."Wait, 'bout today,"

"Didn't see or hear anything, I know."

"Nah, I mean today ain't go right. I wasn't..." Grimmjow made hand gestures around his mouth to solicit speech that wouldn't come. Words of apology simply didn't exist in his vocabulary, but he at least wanted to acknowledge his part in a day gone awry. "Hell, ya know what I mean."

"No, I don't know,"

"Damnit, Orange. I know I fucked up yer day, but ya pissed me off so we're even. Plus, I ain't chargin' for the shit ya smoked of mine."

"Are you kidding? How the hell are we even? First of all, ya came up to my school and fucked with my professor, don't get me started on the shit I'll have to deal with when I go back to Kuchiki's class. Ya practically kidnapped me and made me lose my jacket, I liked that jacket. Uryu bought it for me and if he finds out I lost it he's going to have a bitch fit. Then," Ichigo held out his hand and started counting on his fingers. "I got cursed out since ya didn't like the song on the radio, then when we got to the park ya tried to kick me off the table, then-"

"Aight, aight, I get it, damn, shut the fuck up. I'm tryna say forget today, OK? I'll make it up to ya or some shit. Take ya out sometime to a nice place. That cool?"

For the first time since leaving the park, Ichigo found himself smiling. It sounded like Grimmjow was asking him on a date. "That's fine,"

Reading into the smile, Grimmjow had to rethink his wording. "That came off gay as fuck, didn't it?"

Ichigo could even laugh now. "Yeah, it kinda did,"

"Well, don't be gettin' all excited, I-"

A singing cell phone interrupted their chatter and Grimmjow stopped talking to answer the device. Ichigo sat patiently waiting for the call to run its course while also trying to hear what he could of the conversation. From what he could decipher it was a woman's voice, though her words weren't clear.

"I'll come through, I got ya." Grimmjow said to his caller.

Ichigo wondered if the talk concerned business. Actually, he hoped that was the case. The thought of Grimmjow dropping him home then going to hook up with some chick provoked a jealous spirit. Especially after all they've been through today. Minus the shouting, verbal abuse, shooting, dead bodies, fighting and choking, today wasn't THAT terrible... OK, truth be told, the day was horrendous, but that's all the more reason Ichigo thought they should continue talking and bond over a blunt or something, anything where they could spend more time together.

"….What'd she say?" Grimmjow chuckled. "… Nah, Nnoi's fine where he's at. I can handle both of ya'll at once."

That most definitely didn't sound like a business oriented exchange, and as hard as it was, for his own sanity Ichigo remained optimistic that only he misinterpreted. Regardless of what the call entailed there would be no point in driving himself crazy over it. As just a friend, he has no say in what or who Grimmjow did.

"On my way now," With that, Grimmjow terminated the phone call. Playtime's over, it was Kukaku, with Yoruichi talking shit in the background, that called to dispatch a job and a scolding. Recently, with Nnoitra constantly glued to Uryu, he found that working alone proved faster than waiting to meet with his friend at a jobsite and therefore decided to no longer relay tasks. Of course Kukaku and Yoruichi weren't fond of him taking it upon himself to enter potentially dangerous situations alone. Joking, they told him to return to headquarters so they could brawl, and to bring Nnoitra along as his backup. At least he hoped they were joking. He talked tough on the phone, but knew either of those woman would have him sprawled in the floor before he knew who or what hit. Especially Yoruichi, as a former professional boxer, she's the one that taught him how to fight back when he was a teen and is still faster now than he'll ever be.

"Guess ya have someplace to be?" Ichigo asked, knowing good and well that already to be the case.

Grimmjow almost forgot Ichigo was there. "Yer still here? Take ya ass in the house."

Scowling, Ichigo got out the car and waited until he was out Grimmjow's reach to say, "Don't tell me what to do." Then shut the door.

"I see yer doin' what I said, though."

"Whatever!"

"Yeah, better be whatever!" Grimmjow yelled from the window of his vehicle while starting up the street.

* * *

 

Glistening beads of perspiration gathered around his forehead and slid down his brow. Grimmjow was on his last set of reps, lifting the heavy dumbbells while waiting anxiously for Nnoitra to return to their apartment. Setting his weights down, he began bouncing on his toes and throwing hard punches to the air, the thick muscles of his arms tightening and rolling with every jab to an invisible target. Working out always proved a great stress reliever.

Every word, every reaction, every expression, over and over the details replayed in his mind, and being in his room covered in dark, solid colors seemed to agitate the issue. He preferred simple things, keeping the space unembellished, a black sofa bed, dresser and lamp on one end of the room and his workout equipment and stereo on the other. All that enclosed in somber, navy walls, the all too perfect surface for his mind's projection of images he couldn't erase. Everywhere he looked, terrified, tear-filled, begging eyes triggered almost forgotten feelings of remorse. It was all Ichigo's fault for temporarily losing his damn mind, didn't matter the reason. If he hadn't started pushing people he wouldn't have gotten choked, simple as that. Only, Grimmjow couldn't understand why it was eating away at him.

Music already loud, he turned the stereo up another notch hoping the heavy bass of the currently playing dubstep track would create a distraction. Tuning his jabs with the music, Grimmjow moved a little faster and threw the punches a little harder, channeling his negative energy to his fists and releasing his frustrations gradually. He continued to bounce around for the next half hour until getting a whiff of something appetizing. Leaving his room, he jogged down the corridor and entered the kitchen in time to see Nnoitra sitting down with a stacked platter of food.

"I know you ain't cook, where the hell did ya get that?"

Nnoitra paused in the middle of picking up his fork, confused by seeing his friend. "What're ya doin' here? Yer car ain't out front." He heard the music blasting but assumed Grimmjow left it on and went out, which is typical.

"Parked in the alley 'cross the street so them tricks wouldn't see my shit if they rode by."

"They still stalkin'? Damn, they some importunate bitches."

"What the fuck is importunate? Listen to yer simple ass tryna use big words. Been hangin' up under Glasses too damn long."

"Don't hate cus I'm learnin' new shit. My baby is also teachin' me how to cook," Nnoitra gestured at his plate holding porterhouse steaks, herb smashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, brown sugar glazed carrots and sauteed green beans.

Grimmjow sat across from Nnoitra eyeing the meal. "Lemme get some?"

"Nah, ain't make 'nough for two,"

"Nough for two? That big ass plate of food is 'nough for six, wid yer tall, hungry ass. I say fuck you, then."

"Awww," Laughing, Nnoitra held a forkful of potatoes to Grimmjow's mouth.

"Hell nah," Grimmjow crossed his arms and turned his face away. "But on a serious tip, I needa talk to ya 'bout some important shit. No laughin', and I ain't playin'."

"Important shit? Aight, I'm listenin'."

"Ya know how Orange and me chilled today? Well…" Grimmjow proceeded to explain the day's events, starting with the moment he spotted that pumpkin-colored head of hair in the school lobby and had this urge to put his hands in it and pull. Working from there, he paused after explaining how he told Ichigo about his mother.

"…His eyes did this thing, them jawns were all compassionate and pretty, kinda like a chicks. Had me trippin' for a sec. Anyway, was a drive-by 'cross from the park. They were after them corner boys but I thought they were after me. I pushed Orange to the ground and… got on 'im, protecting the dude like he was my girl or some gay shit. My body just moved like it was the natural thing to do. When it was over, he did the weird eye thing again, started rubbin' my back, too. Had me caught up like I was paralyzed, my dick even responded. Anyfuckingway, fast forward to 'im gettin' upset cus two youngins got shot and he wanted to help, but I said no. Called himself tryna fight me,"

"Damn, so ya killed 'im?" Nnoitra displayed only mild disbelief. "Where'd ya put the body? What am I gonna tell Uryu? The fuck am I gonna do if he finds out yer the one that did it?"

"Chill out, he ain't dead. I only choked 'im. And I already know what yer gonna say, so save it." Knowing Nnoitra, he would likely comment on the fact Grimmjow fought a grown man and choked him like a bitch instead of boxing him down, breaking his jaw or worse. That's what he would do to any other male, so it's clear Ichigo received special treatment. Grimmjow continued, but chose to skip the conversation with Gin, not seeing the relevance. "We left after that, but I'm 'posed to see 'im soon cus I told 'im we'd chill again, but fuck that I ain't talkin' to 'im anymore. My mind's fucked up, like this dude got me trippin'. Bro, I need answers." Grimmjow fully expected to see Nnoitra at least with a humored smile and was ready to curse him out. However, to his surprise his friend presented no such grin, the man apathetically cutting into his steak like what he just heard Grimmjow relay was no more shocking than the weather report. "Ay! Did ya hear all the fuck I said?"

"I heard," Nnoitra finished eating, leaving exactly half the amount of food, which was plenty, and pushed the plate across the table to his best friend. They often shared food this way, and he had intended to split the meal before Grimmjow asked, only telling him no to see the reaction. Nnoitra looked uncharacteristically composed, but on the inside he was ready to burst. So badly he wanted to laugh himself off the chair and yell, "I always knew yer ass was GAY!" Not poking fun, but it felt like one of those, 'told you so' moments, having suspecting sooner or later Grimmjow and he would have this conversation. He promised himself that if/when this happened he wouldn't ruin all with his typical deportment.

"Grimm," Nnoitra said calmly. "Remember Gin Ichimaru?"

Grimmjow nearly choked on a green bean. "Gin Ichimaru!?"

"Don't play like ya don't know who I'm talkin' 'bout. Remember our last couple weeks in high school? You and Gin got in that fight and had to stay after school for a week."

Grimmjow knew all too well where Nnoitra was going with this trip down memory lane. Most of high school passed uneventful and drama free. He had only a handful of friends because too many people annoyed him and he didn't have relationships because girls in general annoyed him. Having beat down anyone that verbally expressed unpleasant words about his hair color, he proved early on how unwise it was to fuck with him. So no one bothered him, except for of course Gin. Every time they'd see each other in class or encountered one another in the halls, Gin made a sexual remark or gesture. Rumor had it that Gin had a horrible home life. Druggy mother, something Grimmjow could relate to, and a step father that had sexually abused him. Grimmjow's way of showing sympathy was to not bash Gin's face in for the constant harassment, but to simply leave him with the threats.

This was the pattern until their last month of school when Gin's best friend, a girl named Rangiku, got hit by a speeding car during their walk home. Grimmjow hadn't been far from the scene of the hit-and-run incident, and for the first time seen the color of Gin's eyes as he wept openly in the street for the closest person in the world to him. Rangiku lived, though barely, and Gin returned to school two weeks later in what appeared to be high spirits. Second period was always their first encounter of the day and Gin couldn't wait to start pestering the blue-haired youth.

"Hey sweetheart, I missed ya. Meet me in the janitor's closet so I can show ya this new thing I learned with my tongue?"

"Fuck off, will ya? 'Fore I show ya this new thing I learned wid my fist." As was typical for Grimmjow to say and they'd both keep it moving. However, this time Gin took offense to the words and punched Grimmjow right in the mouth, busting his lip. They briefly grappled but were broke apart before turning the halls into a round of Mortal Kombat. The two gained a week of in-school suspension and after school cleanup duties for the brawl. During that week of their punishment they managed to avoid each other for the most part, until they found themselves in the privacy of the gym closet together picking up after the volleyball team had practice.

"Ya know, I never believed it when ya said nothin' happened back then after those rumors were spread. Just tell me the truth." Nnoitra said.

"OK, FUCK!" Grimmjow slammed his fists on the table, feeling like he was being strung through an interrogation. "I was in the gym closet and Gin came in apologizin' for bustin' my lip, sayin' he was stressed over his homegirl cus both her legs were shattered and she needed surgery. Wanted me to put myself in his situation, askin' how I'd feel if that were you who got hit, tryna fuck wid my mind. Then he uh… fuck it, never mind."

"Grimm, stop playin' like ya can't tell me anything. Shit, remember how nervous I was 'bout comin' out?"

"Don't get it twisted, I ain't comin' outta a damn thing. I'll tell ya, but don't mention it again." Grimmjow breathed an exaggerated sigh and glared across the table, communicating his disinclination to discuss the subject but continued anyhow. "Gin touched the spot where my lip got busted, real regretful like, so I ain't say nothin' and he took that shit the wrong way, moved in closer and kissed me. Was one of them in the moment things and I kissed 'im back. While we were kissin' he uh…" Here came the hand gestures and it was Nnoitra's turn to sigh.

"Grimmjow…"

"Aight, shut up! He put his hand down my shorts and was stokin' my dick. I got hard, but didn't really like it cus Gin is weird as fuck and he pisses me off, but I'll keep it real, ain't like I disliked it either cus it felt good. I was lost in the feelin' and when he dropped to his knees I was gonna let 'im give me head 'til we heard a door shut. The punk bitch that seen us in the closet and ran their mouth is lucky I never figured out their identity. Wasn't even that big a deal. I'm done. Now, say what ya gotta say!" Grimmjow jumped up leaning across the table, pointing at Nnoitra, demanding his opinion, then dropped back down hard into his chair, fuming.

Nnoitra struggled immensely with the control he held over his laughter. He wished Grimmjow would present himself with a more collected disposition. He knew his friend wasn't sure how to express himself outside of exasperated rants and behavior, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his personal promise of holding his composure together.

"I'm just gonna state an opinion based off what ya said and what I've observed. So don't go the fuck off and lemme speak my mind." Nnoitra said.

"OK, speak fool."

"I noticed ya said, ya weren't feelin' Gin cus he's weird, not cus he was another dude. But yer right, it wasn't a big deal, so I can't figure why it was a secret all these years. Ain't like you to give a fuck what anyone thinks. Concernin' Orange, he likes ya and deals wid yer shit even though yer a crazy bastard, that's sayin' somethin'. And you, yer doin' and sayin' shit ya can't understand, ya obviously like the dude, too. I think yer in denial cus the concept of acknowledgin' feelings for another male is new and too confusin', I know how ya trip when shit gets confusin'. Correct me if I'm wrong."

Grimmjow uncomfortably ran a hand through his mane, not liking how Nnoitra actually made sense and how he might have to deal with this budding truth. "Keep goin'," He said.

"Know what? I think yer like me. You'll fuck a chick but can't have a relationship wid one, which is part the reason ya never really had a relationship at all. Yer prolly better suited wid guys. Ya know what I'm gonna say next, right?"

"Just say it," Grimmjow unenthusiastically encouraged.

Nnoitra couldn't resist any longer. "I always knew yer ass was GAY!" His laughter leaped off the walls and filled the kitchen with its rich sound. As his abdomen began to hurt, he collapsed over the table, pounding it with his fist.

Suppressing a smile, Grimmjow watched the platter of food slide along the shaking surface. "I knew yer dumbass couldn't act right. Ain't even that funny, and I ain't nobodies gay."

Rubbing his stomach, Nnoitra gathered himself, beaming. "Man, everybody ya fuck wid is gay or bi. Me, Tatsuki, Orihime, Rin, and I don't know how true it is, but I heard some things 'bout Chad and Shinji."

Grimmjow finally cracked a smile, he had heard some rather interesting things as well. "Yeah, yeah,"

"Then, there's auntie and Yoruichi. I ain't sayin'…"

"But yer just sayin'." Grimmjow chuckled, knowing exactly to what Nnoitra referred. His adoptive aunt and her bodyguard maintained to ostensibly have only a professional relationship, but very questionable sounds Nnoitra and he used to hear when they all lived in the same dwelling had them knowing otherwise. "What's yer point?"

"My point is ya might as well just join the crowd."

"Ain't that simple,"

"I know, I'm playin', but think on all else I said. Ya needa talk to Orange, and soon, like tomorrow so ya don't punk out."

"I guess. Just you and Glasses do somethin' so I can chill at their crib wid no disruptions."

"I got ya, no worries." Nnoitra got up from the table and gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. He knew Grimmjow had much to contemplate and left the man to his ambivalent thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify so there's no confusion, we're picking back up from the same day.

Ichigo's mouth tugged in an optimistic grin and then flipped in a despondent frown every time his thoughts shifted to a certain blue-haired thug. He was oscillating between being elated this man was in his life and regretting ever meeting him. Grimmjow insisted on reminding him he wasn't gay, and Ichigo had no doubts about that, mostly. If he choose to look at the situation from an optimist's point of view, actions spoke louder than words, and Grimmjow's behavior had been arguable as of late. If that didn't already have his head spinning, the most untoward fact of the matter was his feelings for the straight drug dealer had possibly snowballed into more than a harmless crush. It was too much, really. He already felt a pulsating in his frontal lobe, if he attempted to make sense of today his whole head would throb with the misery of a migraine. So for now, he tried to forget. With eyes closed, Ichigo sat on the edge of his bed massaging his temples, working to sooth the forming headache. It was effective, just one minor interference that slowed progress. All he needed were a few moments of peace, a luxury his housemate denied him.

" _And Uryu is still running his mouth…"_ Ichigo caught pieces of the dark-haired mans complaints, but for the most part tried he to pretend no one was there. His class assignment wasn't finished and Uryu insisted on bitching about the fact he procrastinated, waiting until the last day to start. Had Ichigo not needed and solicited the help to finish in a reasonable amount of time, he would have ejected the man out his room long ago.

"…Ichigo, I'm so sick of this." Uryu groused. "Are you listening? I said this is the last time I'm helping you under such a time constraint. How bright of an idea did you think it would be to wait until the night before the due date to start this project?" Leaning against the frame of Ichigo's door he waited for the man to acknowledge poor judgment, but Ichigo was disinterested in responding. Uryu was also upset that Ichigo requested his assistance while he was in the middle of his important, nightly routine of tying his hair up with a silk scarf and applying a face mask.

"What is wrong with you?" Frustrated with being ignored, Uryu walked over to the bed and stooped to Ichigo's sitting eye level. "Are you now deaf on top of being crazy? I truly don't understand you anymore. Why would you in your coherent mind skip class with Grimmjow, of all people? That man is a psychotic hooligan, he can't comprehend the worth of a good education. Get a damn backbone. You better believe I made Nnoitra sit and wait in the back of my class until it was over."

When Ichigo opened his eyes he flew back, startled. "Damnit Uryu, back up. I don't know why you put that shit on your face, it looks creepy." Lately Uryu had been experimenting with homemade masks. Yesterday it was avocado and banana, tonight was a disgusting-looking, chunky, paste made from ground oatmeal, almonds and honey. A complete waste of food, in Ichigo's opinion.

"Wait a minute, I'm the one most often inconvenienced by your irresponsibility. Your project isn't close to being finished. Your grade is already in jeopardy, don't you think it would be wise to do all you can to ensure you won't fail?"

Ichigo activated his mental ignore button and put Uryu on mute. This is precisely why he decided against describe the details of his outing with Grimmjow. The day offered enough without the added lectures. What he really wanted was a period to slip away, even if for a short while.

As he tried to imagine all the places he could be right now instead of home stressing, his cell vibrated. Examining the incoming number, he didn't recognize the digits. Maybe it was Grimmjow calling from a different phone to offer a proper apology. Ichigo smiled at his own bizarre thoughts. The day he anticipated an apology from Grimmjow is the day he expected to wake up with the aptitude to see spirits.

"Who is this?" Ichigo asked.

"Who the hell answers their phone like that?"

"Kensei?" Ichigo honestly forgot he'd given that man his number.

"We spoke a few hours earlier. Do you have so many men calling that all their voices start to sound the same?" Though rude, the tease was plain in Kensei's voice.

Ichigo managed to take him serious nonetheless. "I was makin' sure because I WAS about to save your number under the correct name. If you're sayin' I'm a hoe, go fuck yourself."

A grin marked Kensei's lips. Ichigo hadn't changed. "You wouldn't talk that shit if I were there."

"Bet ya I would," Ichigo returned, surly.

"Yeah? What do you have planned tonight?"

"I'm workin' on a project, might or might not have other plans." Ichigo kept his answer vague, trying to see which path Kensei would take the conversation.

"Basically you're free? I'm stopping by."

As about expected. Ichigo frowned at this. There was already one man in his life that was assertive enough. He preferred if Kensei didn't invite himself over. The days when they were a couple and Kensei could come as he pleased have passed. "If ya wanna just talk we can do it over the phone. Can't just invite yourself over to someone's house."

"I had more in mind than talking, and I want to see you talk all that shit in person. You can come over here, if it's such a big deal."

By admission, Ichigo liked the implication. It probably wasn't a good idea to jump into anything with his ex, but it might be what he needed to get his mind off today. Not that it should affect his decision, although it did, he was virtually positive Grimmjow was out chasing some skirts. So it was decided. "Alright whatever, I'll be there."

"Don't make me wait long."

"Yeah, yeah."

Ichigo hardly ended the call before Uryu started with the third degree. "Where are you going? Do you have any idea how late it is? Have you forgotten about your project?"

"None ya damn business and yes, I know how late it is. I'll finish on my own, feel free to get out."

"Well!" Uryu leaned back as if being blown by a strong gust of wind. He couldn't believe the attitude emanating off Ichigo. "Next time you need help don't even think about asking me for a damn thing." He marked his words and exit with a loud door slam.

If in good enough moods apologies would be given tomorrow. Tonight though, Uryu would have to sleep angry. Ichigo knew his friend wouldn't agree with his decision even if the reasons were appropriately explained.

* * *

 

The condominium's lobby looked the same as he remembered; large glass doors, polished to sparkling floor, decorative plants and paintings artistically arranged, centered lobby desk and an overly friendly doorman. Kensei sat in one of the accent chairs watching the door and approached Ichigo upon sight.

"Let's go," He said, wasting no time.

"HELLO Ichigo, thanks for not makin' me wait long... Oh hey, Kensei, it wasn't a big deal." Making it obvious his dislike for the lack of pleasantries, Ichigo created his own version of a preferable exchange.

Kensei didn't as much look back at Ichigo, who followed him to the elevators.

"Asshole," Came Ichigo's under-his-breath insult as a result.

Kensei nodded, not only acknowledging that he heard but agreed. He allowed Ichigo to enter the elevator first, and once the doors opened on his floor allowed him to exit first as well, giving chance to land a firm and unexpected smack on his rear.

Jumping, Ichigo twisted around with a glare. "Ouch!"

Smirking, the silver-haired man proceeded to unlock the door. "Keep on with the smart ass remarks and there will be more where that came from."

Ichigo tried to loosen up, it's been a while, so he had to readjust himself to Kensei. For the first time in months he entered his ex's condo, and as the lobby, nothing had changed appearance wise. His legs automatically carried him to the kitchen; he wanted to explore the place that held most of their memories. It looked exactly the same as the morning he stormed out, minus one detail.

"The hole's repaired?" Ichigo asked, rubbing the wall where he recalled doing damage. Their last argument resulted from his cooking destroying another breakfast. The dispute had gotten so heated that Ichigo hurled a skillet full of burnt bacon against the wall, splattering grease everywhere and creating a fist-sized opening. "Man, I was so mad that day."

In the middle of reminiscing, Ichigo felt Kensei creep up behind him, pressing against his back and suggestively running hands along his thighs. Like old times his body natural fell into it, his head tilting slightly, knowing what would come next. With an accurate prediction, Kensei swept hair away from Ichigo's neck to bite the tender flesh there. Ichigo lips parted slightly and he breathed a yielding moan. It felt good, but not exactly right. Something bothered him, he only couldn't figure out what.

"Where's the boyfriend?" Ichigo asked.

Kensei tensed noticeably at the mention. "We're obviously not together if you're here."

Even with that answer there was a vaguely familiar voice in his head telling him to rethink what he was about to do, it was frighteningly reminiscent of Uryu. Then, there spoke another voice which told him to stop being an idiot and get fucked, he's wanted dick for how many months now? To him, that second voice seemed more logical and sounded more like his own.

"Are we done with the questions?" Kensei hinted at his desires by slowly grinding against Ichigo's ass.

"…Yeah," Ichigo shook whatever apprehensions and they continued where they last left off.

* * *

 

"He would be late," Uryu grumbled as he sat on the windowsill watching for the Hummer. Having never ridden in the truck, or been driven anywhere by Nnoitra, he was quite intrigued by the call saying he would be carted off in twenty minutes. That was thirty-five minutes ago. Uryu hated waiting, though tried to make an exception for Nnoitra, but an entire fifteen minutes was pushing his patience. Just as he was about to make a very brief but agitated phone call, the truck pulled in front the house.

"About time," Uryu said once stepping up in to the vehicle.

"Shut up," Nnoitra yanked the smaller man by his arm into a peck. "Where's ya boy?"

"Ichigo? I believe he should be on his way home." Uryu furrowed his brow in suspicion, Nnoitra never asks about Ichigo. "For what reason do you need to know?"

"Nothin' ya need to worry yer pretty ass 'bout." Nnoitra wished he could stick around to whiteness what would take place at the house, but he was keeping his word and removing possible interruptions. He smiled while pulling off the curb, trying to imagine the conversation.

"Wait just a second," Uryu protested. "I know you're not going to drive with that bandana tied over your eye."

"Why ain't I? Ain't like I ever take it off."

"Yes, I'm aware, but I didn't think you operated a vehicle while sporting your little fashion statement. This is very dangerous, I insist you stop this truck right now."

Nnoitra laughed at the demand and kept on up the road. "Yer not gonna fuss the entire ride, are ya?"

That's precisely what Uryu did. He complained from his house all the way to the apartments. Even after they parked and made way through the lot he continued.

"I can't believe you," He went on…

Nnoitra ushered the smaller man inside then took a seat in a black, leather, reclining chair in the living room. Like Grimmjow's quarters, the apartment's decor and furnishings were nice but simple, and played off dark colors. Patting his lap, he summoned Uryu over, who stayed in the middle of the floor still displeased with Nnoitra's actions.

"What if we got in an accident? Just because you choose to dress like that it doesn't give you the right to put my life in peril. And for what? In truth, I'm not a fan, it looks silly, but I deal with it only because you're hell-bent on wearing it. If you really cared about me you would have complied with one request to at least give me peace of mind."

Nnoitra threw his head back over the chair in a heavy sigh; he wasn't sure whether to shake Uryu, telling him to shut the fuck up about something he doesn't understand, or accept this was partially his own fault for trying to circumvent an explanation so long. It's been ages since he's had a real relationship, and what he has with Uryu definitely feels real. So for that reason he waited, not knowing if his reveal would bring a good thing to its end, and if that is to be the case, dragging it out as long as possible. He knows how he feels about Uryu, now would be a test of how Uryu feels about him.

"Come 'ere, I wanna show ya somethin'," Again, Nnoitra signaled for the shorter male to come closer.

Grudgingly, Uryu approached. "Well?"

Nnoitra tried entering his serious mode, but he couldn't remedy smiling. He found Uryu irresistible when the attitude was in full effect, he had half a mind to bend him over the couch and fuck him senseless, making Uryu forget why he was mad and delay longer. Or, that's how it mellowed out in the past, but he would be a man about it now, no more stall tactics or similar. Untying his bandana, he opened both eyes and exposed the part of himself that he usually kept hidden.

Uryu gasped, and with mouth agape all he could do was stare. This did nothing to make Nnoitra feel at ease, but in the very minimal he expected the man to be shocked considering his left cornea was completely clouded giving his entire eye a white appearance. At least that reaction wasn't the worst he's encountered.

"The technical shit they call it is leukoma." Nnoitra volunteered the explanation figuring he jarred Uryu into silence. "Part of some defect that had me fucked up from birth, was already blind in that eye 'fore the leukoma took effect. At any rate, been drivin' since age twelve, one eye and all."

Uryu didn't mean to gawk stupidly, but it was such a shock he initially couldn't do anything but. He promptly pulled himself together, mortified with his own reaction. Nnoitra deserved better than to be gaped at like some circus attraction.

"Why did you tell me you wore bandanas because it looks cool?" He asked.

"Ain't want ya to start actin' funny, I know it looks creepy as hell. Or so I've been told."

Uryu thought it was mighty suspicious that Nnoitra refused to remove his bandana, even during sex. There had been occasions where he tried and was unsuccessful in snatching the coverings as Nnoitra automatically put up a guard when anything came in close proximity to his upper body. He was also obsessive about making sure all stayed perfectly aligned and in place. Figured it was just a compulsion, he never imagined the reason for this behavior and the customary eye gear were Nnoitra's way of hiding a birth defect, something he had no control over.

Self-reproach balled painfully in his chest remembering the things he said. For the first time Uryu was ashamed of words that left his mouth, wishing he could steal them back and bury them in an undisclosed location. He heartily cared for Nnoitra, he could only hope he hadn't hurt him. Just to think this person that he's come to care about has been hiding that part of himself just so he wouldn't be treated differently. It saddened yet angered him at the same time.

"I would never treat you differently because of something like that. What the hell kind of person do you think I am? Tell me, I want to know." Uryu demanded, arms folded at his chest, his disappointment of being misjudged apparent.

"Shit, I just figured…"Nnoitra was taken aback by Uryu's frustration. "So then, yer still my baby?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I can't believe you think my feelings could be changed so easily." Uryu softened, his visage turning to something far gentler and downright broken.

Nnoitra sobered. He'd been smiling, but it instantly wiped off his face. "Yer not gonna cry, are ya?"

"No, I am not!" Uryu turned his back to the other when he felt his nose starting to burn.

Unfamiliar with this his side of his partner, Nnoitra wasn't sure what to do other than hold him. For a more mutual embrace, Uryu turned, bringing them face to face and placing his arms around Nnoitra's neck. Uneasy being seen this long without some form of cover, Nnoitra went to return his bandana, only to be stopped by a hand on his wrist.

"You don't have to hide around me." Uryu said, climbing on to the taller mans lap and tenderly placing a kiss on the lid of his disadvantaged eye.

Nnoitra was stunned but exultant, Uryu passed the test. "Yer definitely wifey material."

"Wifey material?" Uryu pondered over such a tag. "I suppose that's a compliment?"

"It is," Nnoitra assured. "Wanna see my room? Or can I fuck ya right here?"

"Does it really matter?" Uryu smiled as he actually hadn't been given a choice since Nnoitra was already tugging at his clothes.

* * *

 

Had he not located a coffee shop this morning and gassed up on energy shots, his car would be veering off into a ditch after falling asleep at the wheel. Ichigo didn't get a single wink of slumber last night and was utterly exhausted. On top the kitchen counter, then the table and finally Kensei and he ended up in the bedroom where he spent half the night getting pounded on a Sealy Posturepedic. He opted out of staying the night so they could cuddle and perform other romantic rituals to build on the idea of former lovers reconnecting. Ichigo hadn't much choice other than to return home in the wee hours, not entirely disregarding priorities. Determined to keep his promise to Keigo, he spent the remainder of his night/morning working through that school project, finishing with enough time to shower and scurry to class. With fuel nearly depleted, he was thankful to almost be home, very much planning to collapse on his bed, or the living room couch if he couldn't make it upstairs. His BMW was readying to round the last corner as he could hear loud music vibing off his street, something very unusually for this neighborhood.

_-Say my name, say my name,_  
'Cause those other men are practice,  
And this ain't no time for actin',  
And this ain't no time for games,  
And this ain't no time for uncertainty,  
And this ain't no time for locking your phone, and not coming home and startin' some shit when I'm in the zone…-

As a fan of Drake he liked the song, but that's beside the point. How was he supposed to sleep with that kind of disturbance? He hoped the inconsiderate bastard blasting their music would realize that sort of activity isn't tolerated here. The neighbors would likely call the police. If they didn't, Ichigo wouldn't be opposed to telling whoever to play that shit at a respectable level. As he slowed closer to his home he could see a black Camaro sitting in his driveway, the source of the song.

"What the fuck?" Ichigo mouthed, puzzled, as he parked.

Before getting stirred, he considered it could be Nnoitra driving Grimmjow's car. With dark, heavily tinted windows, it was impossible to tell. When the door did open, a condensed cloud of smoke twirled outwards, dispersing and fading through the air. Aware Nnoitra isn't much of a smoker, he was positive it was indeed Grimmjow, which in itself was just abnormal. They never saw each other two days in a row. Ichigo stepped out the vehicle, watching the car in his driveway as he walked up the sidewalk. At the same time, Grimmjow was getting out his vehicle and approached.

He looked good as always. Not excessive, but just the right amount of sag on his dark-gray denims, perfect fit black Henley, fresh, black and gray Nike's and a dark gray cap. Ichigo shifted uncomfortably knowing he looked as rough as he felt with bags puffed under his eyes from the lack of sleep and his hair a disheveled mess. Their schedule was Wednesdays and Fridays, those are the days he would put forth an effort in coordinating his clothing. Today however, he threw anything on to get out the house, wearing a pair of green sweatshorts, a wrinkled, yellow t-shirt and white Vans with no socks. On the bright side, Grimmjow doesn't seem like the type to make mention of frivolous things like ones outfit, unlike Uryu who was quick to criticize what he called Ichigo's, 'casual bum wear'.

Grimmjow looked him from head to toe. "Ya look a fuckin' mess, like ya just rolled up out of bed."

Ichigo chuckled to hide his embarrassment, so much for Grimmjow not making remarks about his appearance. "I was in a rush... Plus, I wasn't expectin' company today."

"Well, I'm here, so deal. Less ya got someone comin' through, then I'll bounce."

"No!" Ichigo said abruptly, the urgent tone of voice making Grimmjow smile. "No, I mean." He said more calm. The visit may have been unexpected but the last thing he wanted was for him to leave.

"So, we gonna stand out here all day?" Leery, Grimmjow looked up and down the street.

Ichigo reached into his pocket and showed keys to Grimmjow, as if to prove he had access to the home. "We can go in,"

After they entered, Ichigo went directly to the kitchen where he slumped over one of the counters, worn out. He could hear his bed advertising its warm covers and plush pillows from upstairs, so badly he wanted to partake in all they had to offer. However, with Grimmjow there they'd have to wait. No matter how beat he felt, he would find a way to stay alert. Lethargically he drug his feet around, hunting for anything caffeine packed. He searched thoroughly, even ending up in the cup cabinet. As expected nothing useful there. He was closing the door as a large, warm mass pushed against the back of him.

"I'm gettin' a glass," Grimmjow whispered, reaching over Ichigo's head.

Ichigo's body grew rigid; unsure if he should or could move. He wasn't certain what Grimmjow was trying to do, but considered it a relatively cruel deed as the man is aware of his feelings and how such might affect him. When Grimmjow eased off he checked over his shoulder to see inquiring blues watching him. The taller man held a peculiar look, just standing there staring, brows bunched as if intensely studying. Ichigo didn't know what to make of that, and frankly was too tired to try and understand. His present issue? The pursuit of caffeine proved fruitless. He expressed disappointment with a loud sigh, so appears he would be forced to tough out his somnolence as best he could.

"What's the problem?" Grimmjow asked, going into the fridge for juice.

"No sleep last night so I was hoping for a little boost, but nothin's here." Ichigo explained.

"The fuck was ya doin last night?" Grimmjow came across more curious than he should have.

"Uh…" Ichigo stalled, his mind was as deprived as his body and he couldn't think properly, not knowing whether to lie or tell the truth. "I was up all night on a school project, that's all." He chose somewhere in the middle, having enough brain function remaining to know Grimmjow took no interest in hearing of his gay sexcapades.

"Yeah, aight," Grimmjow downed the juice, wiped his mouth and sat the glass in the sink. Afterward, slowly he backed away, eyes locked on Ichigo then turned, walking out the kitchen.

Ichigo came to the conclusion this must be one of Grimmjow's _odd_ days and left it at that. He followed the strange behaved fella to the living room where Grimm sat first, stretching out in a corner on the couch. The red-head was so sleepy he thought his system would shut down any moment, falling on the chair as having no energy to properly lower himself. The instant his backside hit the surface he trusted his hips up and then rolled on his side, cursing.

"Fuckin' hell, my ass," The impact awakened his sore back, rear and thighs, parting gifts from the earlier activities with Kensei. His body had gone such a long period without and his silver-haired ex wasn't exactly gentle. He sat up gradually, bumping against Grimmjow's leg and remembering he wasn't alone in that room. The other male looked lost but inquisitive.

Before he could part his lips to question, Ichigo started conversation in a different direction. "So, are ya gonna light up?"

Grimmjow didn't at first answer, only eyeing Ichigo with suspicion. "…Nah," He said, then looked off to the side at nothing in particular.

Several minutes pasted and more silence. Ichigo hated to be discourteous to a guest, but if they were going to sit in quiet doing nothing he might as well catch a quick nap. He couldn't continue fighting sleep and the couch was feeling marvelously accommodating.

"Orange, I gotta question." Grimmjow said.

What great timing, wanting to ask questions just as he lay his head back and shut his eyes. "OK, ask."

"I wanna know how ya feel 'bout me." Grimmjow placed the topic on the table.

Ichigo's lids sprung open. Looking over at the thug, he could see the man seemed solemn, so Ichigo decided he would give him an honest, but reserved answer.

"You're cool, I really enjoy being with... or, around ya, is what I meant. You're good company most of the time."

"Most of the time? The fuck are ya tryna say? Huh?" Grimmjow inhaled, taking a deep, calming breath… woosah. Before Nnoitra and he parted ways he was given one last piece of advice. His friend told him not to get upset, yell or threaten Ichigo like a fucking maniac, otherwise they would both become discouraged and conversation would reach an impasse. When needed, Nnoitra could deliver commonsensical advice. In spite of how goofy he appears, he's a fairly rational thinker. Grimmjow noticed this attribute more since his friend has meet Uryu. His best friends beau and he have yet to become good buddies, but he will credit the dude with strengthening Nnoitra's better qualities.

"Come on, Grimmjow..." Ichigo drawled, his fatigue becoming apparent in his voice. "You're aware how ya get sometimes. But can we not go there right now? It's not that big a deal anyway, I think that's part the reason I feel the way I do."

Grimmjow was all-knowing of how the simplest things could irritate him and he'd take it out on the nearest individual. If that individual happened to be Ichigo, then so be it. Fair answer, at least it was honest, although technically not fulfilling the question. Time to stop beating around the bush.

"Ya still like me or not? And don't bullshit me."

"I do," Ichigo simply said. Had he been fully lucid he'd be more inclined to inquire why they were having such a discussion.

Grimmjow shook his head with disbelief. The words resonated correctly and yet still didn't sit well. "Aight, but I ain't nobody special. So what's it 'bout me ya like?"

He had no ability to relay proper thoughts in this sleep deprived state, so Ichigo answered the best he could hoping to not sound completely ridiculous.

"You're not like the people on this side of town. Actually, you're not like anyone I've ever met in my life. I didn't quite get ya at first." In other words, that was Ichigo's way of saying he was scared of the man without sounding like a wuss. "The more time I spent around ya, the cooler ya seemed. You're nice when ya wanna be. Like that time at the convenience store when that guy pulled his gun on me, I realize ya didn't have to step in. Or when I smoke and ya don't charge… and other shit like that." He speech slowed and somewhat slurred as he continued, he resembled someone in a drunken state. "You're direct, I think I like that. You're really fuckin' hot, too. And your eyes? Amaaazing." Ichigo had no idea of what in all he said, knowing it was likely absurd. If Grimmjow wanted to make fun of him for sounding like an idiot he could do so after he woke.

The last bit had Grimmjow smiling, he didn't mind having his ego stroked and could appreciate Ichigo being straightforward. Though honestly, he had little insight on how he could threaten to kill a person, and afterwards find out that same individual still held a fondness for him, admitting such as if their falling out never occurred. Which wasn't necessarily a negative thing, Grimmjow's procedure was to sort out his concerns. He's conditioned skepticisms as a means of protection since too many that pursue him for friendship or otherwise do so for unsavory reasons.

The appearance of Mr. Popularity in clubs with the cheering crowd and star treatment was a distorted picture of reality, those smile-clad faces nothing but masks covering true intentions. Whether it evaporated down to drugs, money, information or the bragging rights of having ties with a hood celebrity, there was a motive. And from experience, women were the worst in this regard - Groupies, or thirsty tricks is what he preferred calling them. They'd used what's between their legs as a means to procure, in other words, tricking to get what they wanted because they're thirsty for everything that came with his status. Not him as a person, just the perks of banging a well-known and connected dealer. This is another reason he preferred to fuck and be done. Rarely did anyone try pushing past his security walls in wanting to know him personally _and_ like him for the man he is as an added bonus. Unless of course, you're Ichigo. Grimmjow reached in his pockets, digging, and pulled out two empty bags. Sucking his teeth, he realized he'd smoked everything in his possession while waiting in the car. Fuck it, his nerves were calm enough.

"Ain't understand how ya could be into someone like me, 'less ya got somethin' to gain. Then I realized, all the hood shit, yer not 'bout that life. And not that I'm on no straight up gay shit, but I think I'm feelin' ya too… This might sound crazy, but I wanna-" Grimmjow stopped, a steady stream of snores distracting him. Just now he realized Ichigo was fast asleep.

"Ay fool, don't ya hear me spillin' my fuckin' guts over here?" He tried nudging him with his elbow only to have the sleeping male fall over against his shoulder. "Orange?" Grimmjow moved his arm, accidently causing Ichigo to slide further, placing him against his chest.

Attracted to the warmth, Ichigo grabbed Grimmjow around his abdomen, hugging him like his own personal teddy bear and rubbed his face in the dip between his pecs. Unsure what to do, Grimmjow stiffly threw his hands up as if being held at gunpoint. He could push him off and on the floor, though he felt it wrong to wake him knowing he showed up unexpectedly and Ichigo hadn't slept. And anyway, the closeness wasn't unpleasant, quite the opposite. Actually, he was so cozy he considered catching a few winks as well. With an unsettlingly restless mind, his sleep had been less than adequate, so why not? And it wasn't as if anyone could see them. Grimmjow pulled his hat down over his eyes and not ready for the cuddling thing, elected to place his arms across the back of the couch verses around Ichigo. The goal was to continue after a short rest so he closed his eyes and drifted.

-v-

By the time Grimmjow lifted his lids it had gone from early afternoon to late evening, as from the window he could see the sun starting to set in a vermillion streaked sky. He checked and there was Ichigo dreaming peacefully. The red-head had secured his position further during their nap, throwing his leg over Grimmjow's to where he was nearly on top of him.

"I know this fool ain't," Grimmjow quietly laughed, he wasn't even mad. Had this happened yesterday before he had that conversation with his lanky pal, it would hardly be as humorous and Ichigo might have gotten punched. It's funny what a little reasoning could accomplish.

While Ichigo was unaware, with stilted movements Grimmjow took the opportunity to brush away the hairs covering Ichigo's brow, letting his fingertips slide down the side of his face. He hadn't noticed before, but the faintest of tiny, fawn-colored freckles assembled across the bridge of his nose, cheeks and forehead. He was drooling, which was kind of gross, but the way Ichigo's lips parted and his brow slightly furrowed as he slept was actually cute.

"… _So now Orange is cute?_ This shit's confusin' as FUCK!" Grimmjow articulated his feelings rather loudly.

The outburst woke Ichigo. "Mmm?" He moaned, repositioning his body to where he was straddling Grimmjow's lap. He stretched his limbs with an arch of his back, wiggling against Grimmjow groin, then sat up with a roll of his hips, grinding down. Grimmjow groaned in spite of himself, it felt too good. Now would be the time to separate, because if Ichigo kept that up the thug was concerned he might do what urges encouraged, hardly caring they're both men.

Ichigo had no clue the extent or effect of his actions, cognizance hadn't caught up yet. Yawning, he pressed his face to Grimmjow's chest, wiping off drool from the side of his mouth and finally looked up, showcasing his maple-brown, sleep glazed and confused eyes.

Grimmjow thought he'd lost what was left of his mind. Unsure what he was doing, almost urgently he combed fingers through Ichigo's hair, gathered a fistful and pulled his face within an inch of his own. For a second he wavered, and during that moment of hesitation Ichigo left the sleep-induced, partial state of awareness to notice with whom he was with and how he was lying. He broke away, jumping to the other end of the couch.

"Shit, my bad! I swear, I wasn't tryin' to do anything…"

"Chill out…" Grimmjow tried to calm him as the man needed not apologize.

"I didn't know. I was sleep, so ya can't get mad-"

Grimmjow reached out and grabbed Ichigo by the shoulders, shaking him. "Shut up for a sec!" With the abrupt jerks orange hair lifted and swayed, bringing something on Ichigo's person to Grimmjow's attention. "Hol' up, the fuck is this on yer neck?" He asked, roughly yanking Ichigo by the arm, pulling him over so he could get a better look.

"I don't know. What's it look like!?" Ichigo panicked.

Grimmjow scrutinized the nickel-sized, plum-colored mark, and confirmed his suspicion. "It's a hickey." He announced, almost in incredulity.

"Oh," Ichigo sighed, relieved. "Yeah, that. Had me worried."

"Oh?" Grimmjow laughed, pushing Ichigo away with disgust. "Up all night, ass hurtin' and a hickey. Ya been fuckin'?" A smile yanked at his mouth but the tone of his voice said he was anything but amused.

Such a subject took Ichigo by complete surprise and he stammered over a response. "U-Uh… fuckin'?" The way he questioned the word one would think it was said in a language he's never heard before.

"Don't act innocent. Lemme guess, musta been that touchy feely muthafucka. He was all over ya before we left the school."

"Who, Keigo? Hell no. And anyway, why are ya askin' if I been fuckin' when ya did the same? The phone call in the car was so obvious. I can handle both of ya at once?"

Grimmjow cocked his head in curiosity. "Phone call? Ya mean my boss? Yer a fool, she's like a moms. The fuck're ya on?"

"She? Your boss is a woman?" Ichigo had no way of knowing this with Grimmjow never referring to gender when discussing his employer. So he made a mistake, still, "Oh… Well, since when's it your business if I fuck anybody?"

Grimmjow fell silent, hating that Ichigo made a good point. Whether it was his business or not hadn't occurred to him, he was angry knowing he spent half the night thinking about Ichigo and questioning his own sexuality. In his head, reiterating he wasn't gay and yet it was another man he couldn't get off his mind. So while he spent his night confronting troubling emotions he never thought he'd encounter in his life, Ichigo was having a grand time getting dicked down, probably not giving him a second thought. In a sense it felt betraying.

"Some school assignment, must think I'm dense. Yer a fuckin' liar."

"I never lied, I did have a project. I just didn't tell ya all else I did." Ichigo refuted.

"And it makes ya look suspect, I don't like that shit. Ya got any idea why I came here today?"

Suffering from sleep deprivation is akin to being intoxicated, before and after. How was Ichigo supposed to remember why Grimmjow was there? The last several hours where a jigsaw puzzle, he might as well had awoken from a hazy night of drinking. He recalled bits and pieces right before falling sleep. Ass hurting, conversation about why he liked Grimmjow, Grimmjow saying something along the lines of feeling the same? Ichigo buried his face in his hands. Something told him he just majorly fucked up.

He didn't know if anything he said could save this situation, but tried nonetheless. "Grimmjow... Just so ya know, I'm still interested in you."

"Ain't in the mood for no more talkin'." Grimm didn't have anything else to say as he adjusted his cap and stood to leave, making way for the door. To an outsider it might look like he was blowing the matter out of proportion, but after growing up with a drug addicted mother who constantly abandoned him and having experienced his share of fake friends, Grimmjow had more than his fraction of trust issues. No way could they continue where they left off, not until Ichigo proved he could be trusted and was again worth consideration.

"Wait a sec," Ichigo followed him to the door. "Before I fell asleep you said somethin'." He didn't want to sound weak, and any other time would refuse to chase after a man, but today he would do both of those things and not think twice about it. "Can't we just talk? Ya don't have to go… Stay, please?"

With a glare Grimmjow looked out towards the street. "Persistent bitch!"

"What the hell?" Ichigo found the name calling completely uncalled for. "I was just-"

"How long are ya gonna keep followin' me?" Grimmjow stormed from the doorway.

As he moved, a white Honda parked in front the house come into view. Ichigo watched a woman step out the passenger's side of said vehicle.

"What the fuck took ya so long to come outside this time?" She asked, directing the probe at Grimmjow.

Ichigo recognized her, the same pigtail wearing, dark-haired girl that was all over Grimmjow at the club some months back. Coly? Or was it Joly? Whatever her name, he couldn't be bothered to remember. Peeping hard enough, he could see who looked like her blonde friend behind the wheel of the Honda. A persistent bitch in a white car, those were details enough for Ichigo.

"Hello? I said what the fuck took so long?" Loly repeated.

"Who the fuck are ya even questionin'? Cus I know it ain't me." Grimmjow respond after initially ignoring her.

"I didn't fuck the fairy behind ya, so who else am I talkin' too? You're dumber than I thought."

Now Ichigo felt the need to get in the mix, stepping outside and going to stand beside Grimmjow. "Who the hell is she callin' a fairy?"

"Ain't that cute, side by side ya make the perfect picture of faggotry." She laughed.

Grimmjow laughed right along with her, but was hardly entertained. "Don't try and provoke me, bitch, if ya wanna die, just say so."

"What'cha gonna do, Grimmjow?" Loly held her hands out like she could catch the answer on her fingertips. Wearing a crazed grin, she became repetitive."Huh? What the fuck are ya gonna do? Ya know, we coulda had somethin' real, but ya decided to treat me like shit. I already told everyone you're gay. You'd have to be to not want me."

"So yer the one spreadin' rumors? Shoulda known. Keep on, and I swear on everything I'll-"

"You'll what?" Loly interrupted him, throwing her head back and cackling maniacally. Reaching behind her back she pulled out a pistol. "You'll kill me?" She smiled, shakily pointing the gun at the thug. "Nobody plays me. Fuck you!"

His heart thumped at an alarming rate forcing blood coursing though his veins at a speed which just about made him dizzy. He _was_ scared, but with not much time or capacity to process, Ichigo became fixed in his resolution and acted in accordance. He jumped between Grimmjow and the gun and locked arms around the man's neck when hands tried pushing him away.

"Move, fool, 'fore ya get yer ass killed!" Grimmjow warned, pushing and pulling at Ichigo's arms, unable to break a strength he hadn't known the man possessed.

Ichigo didn't falter, those brown eyes focused, staring into the stunned blue orbs, even as the shot rang forth and the bullet tore in his flesh. He flinched and his mouth dropped in shock, but he managed to hold composure and didn't shout like heaven knows he wanted to. The tremendous pain branching from his side was nothing like he ever before experienced, the distress of it making his vision blurry. The entirety of his torso filled with an intense burning, he felt like thousands of thick gauge syringes pierced him at once and injected a corroding acid. Any remaining questions of the boundaries of his feelings for Grimmjow thoroughly diminished. With the most pitiful of smiles tugging at his mouth he didn't regret what he'd done. Grimmjow already proved he would do what was in his means to protect him, even now his concern unmistakable. So here's to repaying the favor ten times over. In his heart Ichigo wanted to believe Grimmjow would have done exactly the same for him. Those were his thoughts before all faded to black.

"Ora… Ichigo?" It was the first time Grimmjow used his real name and Ichigo wasn't even conscious to hear it. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath until Ichigo fell limp in his arms. No need to trouble himself with Loly for the time being. After firing one shot the recoil freighted her and she dropped the gun, screaming. After retrieving the weapon she then jumped in her ride, her driver speeding off up the street. His only mission was getting Ichigo help.

Grimmjow had to think fast, the neighbors were bound come out their homes in droves to see about all the commotion. He could see the yellow t-shirt soaking up the blood seeping from Ichigo's wound. If the visual wasn't enough, between their bodies he could feel the warm liquid permeating his own shirt, if he didn't act soon Ichigo would undoubtedly bleed to death. One arm around his back and the other under his knees, Grimmjow lifted him, and being lighter than expected, with ease transported him to the passenger's seat of his car.

Wasting no time, he hopped behind the wheel and mashed the gas, speeding with intent. His lucky stars would be thanked many times over that day. A couple months back when Kukaku sent him and Nnoitra on that random pick up from her contact, he remembered how they got lost on the way, taking a wrong road and in turn drove by a hospital. Though he wished to avoid the place, as once discovered the wound was gun inflicted cops would investigate. He'd rather dodge unnecessary bullshit, but if it meant the difference between Ichigo's life and death whatever troubles he would encounter were irrelevant.

"The fuck were ya thinkin' jumpin' in front a gun like that? It was my problem, ya had no business gettin' involved!" Grimmjow scolded the unconscious man, bloody hands gripping the steering wheel with rising anger and desperation. "Ya better not fuckin' die, hear me? Die and I swear I'll kill ya." Too distraught, Grimmjow didn't realize how illogical that threat was. Of all the emotions to dwell in his being you'd think relief would reign supreme, that bullet had his name on it. There instead the exact opposite, gnawing at him like a vicious, soul eating monstrosity. If Ichigo died, Grimmjow told himself right then it would be his fault, he'd have to live with it the rest of his life. Not only that, but he felt weak for not moving Ichigo in time, who was smaller than him, to take his own bullet. The thought was painful, and grew with intensity every second Ichigo laid unresponsive to his right. At one point Grimmjow looked down, checking his own body to see if he too had been shot and hadn't realized. The pain felt real, too real.

* * *

Songs used: Drake - Girls Love Beyonce


	11. Chapter 11

Ichigo peered from one end of the street to the other. Although night had settled in, the streetlights emitted plenty. Still, if he had hoped to catch anyone it was far too late. He picked up the beautiful rose and orchid mix left decorating the doorstep and immediate noticed the pungent scent. The flowers smelled of having absorbed a heavy amount of smoke while confined to a small, enclosed space - a car perhaps, but he could only speculate. If that observation didn't point a big, red arrow at a certain someone, Nnoitra's dubious behavior did. As the man was, more often than not, over the house with Uryu, he poked his head around the corner when Ichigo carried the vase inside.

"Who that from?" he asked.

Suspicious of such a questions purpose, Ichigo eyed him with a drawn brow before continuing to read the attached card. "It says from anonymous, again." he sighed.

Beginning the day he was discharged from the hospital, each week it was something different left on the doorstep. None of which had the givers name, and all which drove him increasingly crazy. Instead of feeling lousy about anonymous flowers, of all things, he knew he should be thankful to be alive. Several weeks ago around this time he could have very well been dead. By luck the wound felt worse than the actual damage inflicted. He wasn't completely out the red however, since it was at an angle the bullet entered his side and miraculously stopped just short of his spine. The removal surgery in itself was quite risky.

During his hospital stay, the twins tried to keep him entertained. Yuzu and Karin came to visit their older brother daily, sometimes bringing Tatsuki and Orihime. Of course Uryu was there with Nnoitra tagging along, the taller man claiming he had nothing better to do if Uryu was occupied. Most of Ichigo's friends eventually stopped by or sent well wishes, Kensei included. The only person he didn't hear from was the one he wished to see the most.

Grimmjow hadn't shown his face since the day he rushed to the hospital and carried Ichigo's body though the emergency entrance, laid him across the desk of the check-in station then left wordlessly. This was, to an extent, understandable, as the moment Ichigo regained consciousness the police were down his throat, as per usual with gunshot victims. He didn't create a farfetched, elaborate tale, he simply told everyone he was going to grab something out his car then blacked out. It was the easiest lie to remember. And this mysterious man that brought him in? He must have been a random Good Samaritan.

While the investigation is still on-going, Ichigo had been home too long not to have heard anything from Grimmjow directly. What was the excuse? He wasn't asking the man to devote his body, mind and soul in eternal gratitude. At the very least a phone call would be better than nothing.

Nnoitra held a provokingly teasing smile while his visible eye shifted back and forth between Ichigo and the vase. It was obvious he knew something, but instead of enlightening the orange haired one, he chose to return to his seat silently.

Ichigo was so over it. "Nnoitra," he said the name quietly, desperately trying to not shout. "Did Grimmjow send this?" he asked.

Nnoitra cocked his head as if confused. "That ain't what it said on the card."

"Ya know damn well there's no name on this card, or any other card." Ichigo wasn't buying the feign of ignorance.

"You got them flowers, not me. How the fuck am I 'posed to know who they came from?"

Reaching his boiling point, Ichigo no longer cared to control his volume or the words that came from his mouth. "Why doesn't he just come over? I took a fuckin' bullet for that asshole and he doesn't give enough of a fuck to stop in and see how I'm doing? Fuck him and FUCK YOU!" Ichigo shouted.

Taken aback by the tongue-lashing, Nnoitra was quite ready to set Ichigo straight until he felt Uryu gently place a hand on his leg. He looked to his dark-haired lover who was shaking his head. And with a deep breath he smiled, more amused than anything.

"Look, Orange, yer not the only one feelin' some type of way right now. Grimm got his own shit to sort out. So don't get hype wid me, aight?"

Losing interest in the discussion, Ichigo took the gift of flowers and dropped them in the trash prior to leaving for his room and slamming the door behind him once there. With a flop he hit the bed, muttering, "ouch," in the sheets as the impact pained his still healing body. He spotted his bottle of prescription pain medication and feeling it time for another dose, popped two pills.

What kind of shit did Grimmjow have to sort out? All their progress made, he was tossing it out with the garbage. The entire situation is almost as depressing as it is ire inducing. The more Ichigo thought about how he suffered, the more infuriated he became. He was starting to hate Grimmjow, but more so hate himself and the person he's become. Pathetically weak, confused, needy, jealous - he refused to let that cesspool of emotion consume him. He always knew someone like Grimmjow would be bad for the health. Starting today he would kick this damn detrimental habit and regain his sanity.

The new, determined attitude meant little if he didn't at least stop moping within these walls. He needed to get out the house and had an idea where to go. Kensei and he talked only once after the hospital release. It was a very casual and short conversation. Neither made mention of the hookup or any to possibly follow. A more recent call provided little as well. Ichigo dialed the man's cell but never got an answer, not even a call back. He wasn't sure if this was intended or Kensei had been busy. On a whim he thought a drive to his ex's condo for a quick chat would be refreshing.

With keys tucked away in his pocket, he trotted down the stairs in flip-flops, a white t-shirt and red sweatpants. Ignoring anything or anyone on his way out, he made haste to the car and was on the road. The emphasis on moving quickly was due to the fact he technically shouldn't be driving. Precautions of opiate pain relievers were no alcohol consumption, dangerous activity or vehicle operation while in use. Uryu had practically been his babysitter the last couple of weeks and would probably have a cow once realizing he was gone. Little did Ichigo care, though.

Arriving outside Kensei's building, Ichigo tried calling before heading up. As the phone rang, he considered the most sensible way to explain he was already outside without sounding downright deranged. However, as the phone continued to ring, it eventually went to voicemail – no answer. Something told him Kensei was home, just not taking his call. Considering the obvious, he didn't understand why he would be ignored.

Then, as luck would have it, or maybe not, Kensei emerged from the building. Too convenient the opportunity, Ichigo wanted to find out directly if he was being snubbed, and if so for what reason. The moment he got ready to hop out his car, he noticed someone trailing closely behind the silver-haired man. Average height, swimmers build, with short, spiky black hair. His distinguishing features had to be the sixty-nine tattooed on his left cheek, a thick gray line that ran from the bridge of his nose across the left of his face and three vertical scars under his right eye. The most relevant detail was the fact he was the on-again, off-again ex that reemerged and shattered the already fractured vessel that contained Kensei and Ichigo's relationship.

The two stopped outside the double doors. Kensei grabbed the black-haired male and planted a kiss on his lips before sending him on his way and going back inside. As Ichigo sat watching the more heated he became. Not jealous, just pissed Kensei didn't have the decency to answer his calls and explain. With nothing more to see he started his car, and while pulling off the tattooed fella noticed him. The man's expression instantly twisted upon recognition, he was aware of Ichigo and Kensei's past as much as Ichigo was aware of him. However, with intentions to see neither him nor Kensei ever again, for Ichigo it minimally mattered.

Out of nowhere the red-head was struck with a fit of laughter. Everything that happened the last several months felt like a joke, of which he was the punch line. This can't be life, and if it is there's no way he could continue to take it so seriously. He drove the route leading home but had no intentions of staying there. New faces were what he wanted, which automatically ruled out any social hotspots in his area. As much as he wished to go out and about across the tracks, hit up a club or party, he didn't have those kinds of connections. Picking up his phone, he pretended not to see three missed calls from Uryu and scrolled to Tatsuki's name.

"What's good?" she answered.

"Sup, Tatsuki. I need some action. What ya gettin' into tonight?"

She paused for a moment then began chuckling. "Ain't ya supposed to be laid up somewhere?"

"Fuck that, I'm fine. I need to get out."

Tatsuki wasn't sure if partying so soon after a surgery and hospital discharge was to be encouraged, but at the same time wanted to respect Ichigo as an adult capable of making his own decisions. "Well, aight. One of my homeboys is throwin' a house party. Ya tryna come through?"

That's exactly what Ichigo wanted to hear. "Just text me the address." He said.

"Word. I'll let 'im know yer comin'."

"Tatsuki," he wasn't sure how to ask this question, but it was absolutely necessary that he know. "Will it be just you there? Or, I mean is anyone else goin'… that I know."

Familiar with the situation between her drug dealer and Ichigo, Tatsuki immediately caught on. "Nah, it's just me. I'll introduce ya to some of my peeps when ya get there."

Ichigo inwardly sighed his relief. "Thanks, Tatsuki." When he ended the call his mood perked significantly, thrilled with the prospect of meeting new people. Fun would be had tonight, and he didn't want or need either Grimmjow or Kensei for a good time.

Upon his arrival home, Uryu was standing in the doorway, and it wasn't to extend a heartfelt welcome back. He had his mouth fixed to lay into Ichigo as soon as the man was in hearing range of his voice.

"Ichigo, where have you been? You know damn well you're not allowed to drive."

"Get dressed. We're goin' out." said Ichigo, ignoring the scolding.

"What do you mean _out_? You're not fit to have a night on the town until fully recovered."

"I'm recovered enough. I'm not gonna keep sittin' around waiting for anything or anybody. Fuck that and fuck them."

Inhaling a deep, calming breath, Uryu threw the breaks on his mouth to cease from furthering an unnecessary argument. The last few weeks he's tried his best to keep drama at a minimum, although Ichigo was very testing at times. He knows the man is hurting not only physically but emotionally. Other than be a supportive friend there was little else he could do. If Ichigo was determined to do something it was like negotiating with a stack of bricks trying to convince him otherwise.

"Fine," Uryu agreed. If Ichigo was going out he wanted to at least supervise. "But I'm driving while you're on those drugs. You're not going to fall asleep behind the wheel and put my life at risk."

* * *

 

With scenery outside the window zipping by at a ridiculous pace, he fastened his seatbelt and checked the speedometer - 110 mph, that was the reading.

"The fuck?" he wondered, turning to his driver for an answer.

"The fuck what?"

"Why the fuck are ya drivin' like a madman? We ain't goin' to put out no fire. Slow down."

Grimmjow huffed his annoyance; he didn't like wasting his breath explaining what he thought Nnoitra should already understand. "Ain't got time to be runnin' back and forth for no bullshit like this. It don't take two muthafuckas to make no exchange. I got other shit I could be handlin' right now."

"I guess if ya crash and get us killed you'll have all the time in the world, huh? Crazy fool. And what shit ya gotta handle, Grimm? Other than smokin' like a chimney and layin' 'round the apartment?"

Grimmjow eased off the gas to a more reasonable speed, though still above the limit. Nnoitra made a point, but he refused to verbally acknowledge it.

As of late, Nnoitra couldn't be in his friends' presence without some kind of bickering arising. Rarely a normal conversation and the slightest thing would set Grimmjow off, even more than usual. He's been this way since the day Ichigo was shot and it's gotten worse as the weeks progressed. As time dragged on, he could only imagine the explosive entity the man would become.

"Grimm, if yer that upset 'bout Orange just go see 'im? He's been trippin' wantin' to see-"

"I already said I'm never seein' 'im again so drop it."

For now, Nnoitra decided to leave the matter alone. They were given a task by Kukaku and it wasn't wise to light Grimmjow's fuse before the encounter, especially since he was the one specifically given instructions to meet with the exchanger. In the near future however, Nnoitra decided he would force Grimmjow to properly face his problem, even if he has to personally deliver said problem himself.

Due to Grimmjow's driving, they reached the meeting spot ahead of schedule. There on the edge of an empty lot already sat a gray Ford Focus. The blue-haired one snatched up the padded envelope beside him and left the vehicle to take up a spot in front the headlights of his car. Waiting, he looked for someone to emerge from the Ford. Before long an individual in a dark, Muslim jilbab stepped out the driver's side. They were covered completely except for the eye opening of a niqab. Even their eyes, however, were not visible as they walked with their head down.

The individual stepped forward with a thick envelope of their own. "You're Grimmjow?" it was the voice of a woman.

"…Yeah," Grimmjow replied and handed off his part of the exchange.

She accepted, then when attempting to hand off her portion stepped closer. A little too close for Grimmjow's tastes.

"Back the fuck up, I don't know ya like that." He warned.

The woman seemed struck by his harsh words, flinching slightly as she reestablished a distance. "I'm sorry," she apologized then timidly passed him the envelope.

Completing the exchange, she lifted her head and very briefly their eyes connected before she scurried away to her car, speeding off. With mouth agape, dramatically-blue orbs followed the Ford until it had long disappeared in the distance.

"I'm trippin," Grimmjow uttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He wanted to get away from there, but couldn't move, legs feeling like heavy, concrete slabs cemented to the ground. The dense emotional burden weighing on his chest made it no better and he physically struggled to find a steady breathing pattern.

Viewing from inside the car, Nnoitra couldn't grasp why Grimmjow was acting like he'd been struck by a rooting spell.

"Ay, brah, what's the deal? Thought ya was in such a rush." he said, but Grimmjow didn't respond. Next he blew the horn hoping to snap the man out his daze.

"I'm trippin'," Grimmjow repeated, trying to convince himself.

He refused to believe and tried to tame his spiraling emotions, but no matter how much he wanted to refute, he couldn't deny what he saw. Looking into that woman's eyes was like looking at himself. Maybe it was a coincidence? He hoped it was a coincidence, but truth be realized he knew only one person in existence with eyes that perfectly mirrored his own.

* * *

 

Ichigo and Uryu cruised down the streets of the hood trying to locate their destination. They arrived outside a bi-level home with cars packed in the drive-way and lining the curb on both sides. The music playing from inside blasted loud enough that the bass vibrated through the floor of Ichigo's car. This had to be the place.

"This is what I don't get. If ya wanted to drive so bad why not take your own car?" Ichigo questioned.

"That should be obvious." Uryu replied. "If any cars get stolen tonight it won't be mine."

Ichigo laughed at the idea he might have his car stolen a second time. If it happens, it happens. Fucks wouldn't be given tonight. He was ready to let loose and forget about the last few weeks.

After finding a place to park, Uryu turned the car off and retracted the keys, then turned to Ichigo with a serious stare.

"I'm letting you know right now. The only reason I've agreed to come here was to keep an eye on you." he informed. "I'm not sure I trust you by yourself. There won't be any drinking tonight because…"

Ichigo heard his riding partner going on about something in his usual annoying tone and ignored him, his mind wandering back to its previous thoughts.

"Hello! Did you hear what I said, Ichigo?"

"Huh?" He breathed, his eyes shifting to his agitated friend.

Another deep breath for Uryu followed by a loud exhale. "Never mind," he said, refusing to repeat himself. "Has Tatsuki arrived yet?"

Ichigo checked all the cars in view, none of them looked familiar. "Not yet, but soon I'm sure." he said.

Both males exited the vehicle and headed to the front door of the home. Ichigo had changed into more outing appropriate clothing, switching his sweatpants and flip-flops for blue khakis and white Chuck Taylors. Uryu's outfit was slightly less intricate than usual but coordinated nonetheless. Black skinny jeans, orange and black graphic-t and black sneakers. He truthfully didn't want to be here and there surely wasn't anyone worth dressing up for.

Ichigo rapped on the door a few times and they waited for someone to answer. When the door opened, a fairly tall and built male was standing on the other side. The man presented a lazy, drug-induced grin and wore a toothpick in his mouth as he studied the two unfamiliar faces standing before him. Ichigo greeted him in passing with a nod before walking over the threshold. No sooner than he had did the man ward off his entry with a hand to his chest.

"Whoooa… hol' up." The man uttered slowly while pushing Ichigo back out the door, making Uryu take a few steps back as well. "Who you s'posed ta be?" he inquired with a raised brow, withdrew the tooth pick from between his lips and looked both Ichigo and Uryu up and down as if they were some kind of unknown species.

A broad, confident smile graced Ichigo's lips. If he was going to be known by anything in these parts he preferred it be his nickname and not his association with a certain blue-haired drug dealer.

"It's cool. I'm Orange." He said, self-assured.

Uryu hid his face in his palm with a shake of his head.

The man laughed lethargically in response before speaking again. "Ya sure as hell is." He concurred. "…Who you?" He nodded his chin toward the raven-haired male.

Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, Uryu sighed. He had no idea what was treading through Ichigo's mind, but decided to follow his lead anyway.

"And I'm Glasses." He nodded.

"Glasses, huh?" Finding them extremely amusing, the door guard stepped aside, allowing them to enter.

Through gyrating bodies they made their way into the mist of the party. Ichigo spotted something he wanted and making a beeline for it, left Uryu's side.

"Don't run off too far." Uryu advised. "Otherwise, I won't be able to find you." Though his warn fell on deaf ears – Ichigo was gone.

While waiting for his friends return, he took a seat on a couch and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. It did little good since someone already had eyes on him and was eagerly walking over to join him in sitting.

"You lookin' real cute over here." The guy said with a flirtatious wink.

"And?" Uryu glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, but refused to extend his full attention.

"I'm sayin' though. You lookin' type cute and I'm tryna holla."

Uryu laughed and disinterest furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure I fully understood what you've just said, but if you want to _holla_ , go do it to someone else. I have a man."

"Oh, he here?" Curiously the male searched the room trying to spot this possible boyfriend.

"It makes no difference. Now skedaddle," his hands made a shooing gesture. With silent rejoice he noticed Ichigo reappear holding two drinks. "Ah, there you are."

Sucking his teeth, the man looked Ichigo over. "That's ya man?"

In attempt to free himself of what was becoming an annoyance, "Yes, yes he is my boyfriend." Uryu said, acknowledging the false simply to be left alone.

Ichigo's eyes bugged and he coughed, choking on the liquor he started to sip.

"My bad then," Was the fella's reply and disappointed he walked away.

"Uryu, what the hell was that?" Ichigo asked.

"Never mind him. You're well aware alcohol is off-limits while you're on opiates. Don't drink any more of that."

Ichigo grinned; little did Uryu know he had already downed two drinks to start the night before returning. "It's only one," he lied, holding the other cup to Uryu's face. "Stop bitchin' and drink already. I just wanna chill until Tatsuki gets here."

Uryu reluctantly accepted the cup while watching Ichigo wearily. Better judgment told him allowing his friend to drink wasn't a good idea but he didn't want to ruin the night out. Anyway, what would fussing accomplish? The man never listens.

After fifteen minutes Ichigo started to feel strangely foggy and certainly buzzed, even his vision started to sway. The liquor hit him far sooner than expected. Despite this he was feeling good and refused to be slowed down. On his way to fetch another drink, he was halted by Uryu's hands gripping his wrist as if he were a small child running in the middle of an intersection full of traffic.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Uryu said, his brows knitting together solemnly.

"Tch… you're driving, who gives a fuck." The orange head dismissed.

"That's not the point."

"Then, what's the point?" Before Uryu could reply Ichigo put a shushing finger to his mouth. "I like this song,"

He tried encouraging Uryu to dance with him, snapping his fingers and moving side to side in a two step to Miguel's "How Many Drinks?"

Uryu crossed his arms and shook his head in absolute refusal. "I'm not hardly drunk enough for that. The more you drink the stranger you become. This is why I said no alcohol, and it certainly doesn't mix with pain killers."

"Strange? I know when _you're_ wasted, you're strange, too." Ichigo directed his pointer to Uryu's chest with a big grin plastered on his face. "You start dancing like… like one of those dancers in music videos."

Uryu's eyes shot wide open as he witnessed the orange haired male initiate a routine of dance.

Ichigo began moving his hips, trying his best to mimic Uryu's dancing. The raven-haired male almost cringed at the atrocious sight. It was by far some of the worst dancing he has ever witnessed, and while it was extremely embarrassing to watch, it was also quite funny at the same time. Eyes from all over the room were glued to the out of rhythm dancing of Ichigo waving his arms in the air and spinning around in circles.

Uryu was starting to feel the embarrassment overweigh the amusement once people started giving them funny looks, pointing and laughing. He would not be made a joke because Ichigo was acting a fool.

"Ichigo, cut that out." Uryu ordered. When Ichigo continued to participate in foolishness and the onlookers sustained their laughter, Uryu pulled him away from the horde of guffawing people and into another part of the house. In this less crowded area he sat Ichigo in a chair.

"What the hell, Ichigo?" Uryu whispered through clenched teeth "I understand you're upset, but that doesn't give you the right to go out in public and act like a buffoon in front of all of those people. Sit here while I go find you some water. Just stay." He said, eying Ichigo cautiously before turning on his heels and walking out of the room.

* * *

 

"The fuck was that?" asked a deep and lazy-toned voice.

Taking the tooth pick out of his mouth, the front door guarder answered. "That's _Orange_." He replied, adding flair to the name for dramatic effect. "I figured him and his friend would be amusin' so I let 'em both in."

"I ain't interested in the one wit' glasses, but carrot top…" he trailed off with a deviant smirk curling his lips.

"I thought ya might like that one." The other male leisurely chuckled. "Ya want me to go get 'im for ya, right?" The one with the toothpick offered.

Stone-grey, hazy orbs slowly shifted in his direction. "Well, I sure as hell ain't movin' from this spot to go look for… uh…" his eyes trailed off, snapping his fingers trying to recollect the name. Then paused, taking a pull from the joint between his fingers. "What's his face…"

"Orange." Tooth pick assisted.

"Yeah, whatever." A cloud of smoke escaped from between his parted lips.

Tooth pick complied with a nod and went to go seek out Orange.

* * *

 

Ichigo's head was starting to spin, or maybe it was the room that was, he didn't know anymore. Positively drunk, and now absurdly sleepy he also felt the beginnings of a headache - never before had he felt like this after three drinks. Maybe Uryu was fair in his concerns, alcohol and opiates don't mix. He tried standing to gather his composure at the same moment a hand gripped his shoulder. Raising his head to find the source of said hand, his eyes fell on curved lips with a toothpick drooping from the corner of them.

"Yo, Orange," Toothpick called, waiting for the tipsy man's eyes to meet his own. "Someone wants to see ya."

"See me?" He wondered.

"Yeah, c'mon." The other man said, grabbing his arm to help pull him to his feet.

"Who does… wait, why?" Ichigo questioned drawlingly.

"Just follow me, aight?"

Not in much of a position to give a damn, Ichigo nodded his head and trailed behind the man.

When they stopped, Ichigo was standing in front of a sofa with a man lounged on it, his legs spread apart and one of his elbows lying on the back of the couch. He had wavy, neck-length dark brown hair, grey eyes, and a neatly shaved goatee. Clothing wise he wore a black wife-beater, navy sweat pants and black and white Puma slides on his feet.

Physically he was quite attractive; the man's good looks hadn't bypassed Ichigo. He starred, and was met with an amused, quirking brow from the handsome brunette. Examining Ichigo, he slowly licked his lips then set them in a half grin making the red-head's already reddening face grow slightly darker. Ichigo may have been a drunk, but not so much he completely missed the intentions behind that look. He straightened his posture and cleared his throat before speaking.

"Ya wanted to see me, right?"

"Yeah," The man said, nodding his head for Ichigo to take a seat.

Ichigo did so, sitting and trying his hardest not to look as drunk as he felt.

"Name's Starrk."

Ichigo shook his head and replied, "Orange,"

Starrk reached for Ichigo's bright locks and began combing them through his fingers. "The name suits ya pretty well."

Heavy thoughts flooded Ichigo's mind when thinking of the person who christened him with the nickname. Knowing he wasn't much of a drinker to begin with, it was foolish to assume the liquor would lessen his emotional baggage. If anything he realized his troubles more than ever. However, it didn't depress him, it only intensified his anger toward the person who made him feel this way.

' _Fuck Grimmjow!'_ he thought, not noticing how close Starrk was to his face until lips crashed into his with surprising force and an eager tongue was sliding in his mouth. Ichigo tried pulling back, but Starrk was quick with grabbing the back of his neck, preventing him from escaping.

Writhing at first, Ichigo slowly stopped fighting, becoming more accepting. Just as he was starting to like Starrk's tongue, a sharp tug yanked him away from the newly-met man.

"What in the hell, Ichigo?!" Exclaimed a bothered Uryu.

Ichigo pulled his arm out his friend's grasp and explained. "Wasn't my fault; he kissed me, a-and…" Ichigo's speech slowed to a stop as he felt dizzy and unstable on his feet.

"What's wrong?" Uryu wondered, genuinely concerned.

"Nothin's wrong. Just stop. I don't have to explain this to you. I'm a grown man that doesn't need a fuckin' babysitter." Ichigo insisted.

"So, I leave you alone for two minutes and you think it's OK to be kissing up on some random guy? In case you haven't noticed, Ichigo, Tatsuki isn't here. For all I know you gave me wrong directions." Uryu concluded.

Ichigo hadn't even noticed Tatsuki's absence, and quite frankly he didn't care. He was actually starting to have a good time, in his mind that's all that mattered.

"I think we had better go now." said Uryu, heading towards the door.

Ichigo chortled while watching the black-haired male walk away. "See ya later. I ain't goin' nowhere." Ichigo waved.

"Are you crazy? I can't leave you here by yourself." Uryu looked Ichigo up and down as if he were two-tones of crazy. Had the hurt Grimmjow inflicted truly manufactured such ludicrous behavior? He was trying desperately to understand, but Ichigo really seemed not of himself.

Ichigo sighed exceptionally loud and dramatic. "Go ahead and leave, Uryu." He couldn't explain what he was feeling at that very moment. It was a mixture of feelings, most of which good and now of all times he didn't need a buzz kill. He hadn't forgotten about Starrk either. The man looked rather indifferent during the argument he was having, though when making eye contact a slight grin from him emerged. "I wouldn't advise waitin' around for me." He directed at his confused bestfriend.

His body felt sluggish and he started to totter, that dizzy feeling returning. But to Ichigo it didn't matter, he was in a good place and determined to finish what Starrk started. Without thinking about it, Ichigo practically fell atop the brown-haired man, wrapped his arms around him and initiated a hot, sloppy kiss.

At a loss for words, Uryu watched as Ichigo straddled Starrk's lap, the man then stood and carried his new drunken friend down a hall and into room where the door was shut shortly after. When Uryu tried to interfere, Toothpick stepped in front of him with his arms crossed, blocking the path.

"Starrk don't allow people past this point 'a the house." he stated.

"I demand you let me pass. I need to get my friend."

"Ain't happenin'." He said firmly, blocking Uryu from trying to go around him. At the persistence he lifted his shirt, displaying the handgun tucked in his belt.

Uryu gave the man a vicious glare before feeling defeated enough to depart the dwelling. With the peculiar behavior, he didn't know if Ichigo was in a coherent mind to comprehend what he was doing. Refusing to risk the possibilities, he was determined to go all necessary lengths to get Ichigo out that house. He knew of only one person who could assist in this type of situation and didn't hesitate in making the call. The phone rang twice before the other line picked up.

"Sup, baby," Answered Nnoitra.

"I need you to stop what you're doing." Uryu said, alarm in his voice arising.

"What's the matter?" His calm tone suddenly turned concerned at the sound of his lover's worry.

"Well, Ichigo and I, we were supposed to meet up with Tatsuki at this party but she's not here. I suggested we leave but Ichigo refused. After he started drinking, which I advised him not to, by the way – you know he NEVER listens to me. Well, he started acting and looking odd. He meet this guy named Starrk, I think he's trying to take advance of Ichigo. Now they're in his room and I tried to get Ichigo out but his guard won't let me pass and he's got a gun! I don't know-"

"Where's this party?" Nnoitra asked, cutting him off.

Uryu provided the directions to their location.

"We're on our way." Nnoitra assured before disconnecting the line.

* * *

 

Playing with the band of his boxers, with heavy lids Ichigo watched Starrk from the middle of a large, comfortable bed.

"Don't fall asleep on me," said Starrk, noticing the half-massed eyes.

"Can't guarantee nothin' if we don't get started." Ichigo smiled in a reply.

Starrk seemed to be the type of man that moved at his own relaxed pace. He took forever stripping Ichigo out his pants and shirt, and now took his time getting the condoms. And before the clothes came off they concentrated on kissing for a good fifteen minutes. Ichigo's head felt airy, and not in a good way. The good vibes he had earlier from those drinks were starting to fade. He was still horny enough for sex, although it seemed his dick was trying to convince the rest of his body.

Noticing an astray on the nightstand with an unlit joint, Ichigo reached for it, at the same time his thoughts drifted back to the last time he met with his drug dealer. He remembered the surprise of seeing that monstrous cloud of smoke roll from the black vehicle right before the blue-haired thug emerged. Ichigo's jaw clenched. He was sick of thinking about Grimmjow and swore to yell if this continued.

No later than he finished that thought did a loud bash ensue and the bedroom door fly wide open, pictures hung on the wall falling to the carpeted floor with the tremor. It had been locked, so parts of the wooden frame around the handle broke off from the siege engine-like assault. There was no war-waging army on the offensive however, just a single irate man.

Grimmjow stood in the doorway, his face frighteningly livid. Wild blue orbs bounced from Starrk to Ichigo then back to the brunette.

Starrk stood in the middle of the floor outlining his broken door before his grays settled on the blue-haired man.

"Oh, Grimm. Sup?" he greeted entirely too casually.

Visibly stunned, Ichigo gawked with wide eyes. "W-Why the fuck are you here?"

Grimmjow glanced at him again and seemed to just now notice Ichigo's state of undress. "Where the fuck are yer clothes?"

Embarrassed, Ichigo's face turned hot pink as he hurried to slip on his pants and sneakers, not bothering with his shirt. He pushed past Grimmjow in the doorway, shouting, "Fucking move," as he did so and unstably but swiftly made way down the hall.

"Hol' the fuck up." Grimmjow said, chasing after the shirtless male.

Walking over and sitting on the nearest corner of his bed, Starrk raked a hand through his hair. He had no idea what was going on but was relieved they took the drama elsewhere, even if that cancelled plans for Orange and him. He knew Grimmjow, as almost everyone from their hood did, but other than a few sales in the past he had no personal dealings with him. If he had to base anything off the condition of his door, it was probably best to keep it that way.

Outside near the car, Uryu paced back and forth. "I still don't think it was a good idea to send him in after Ichigo."

"It's cool," Nnoitra said, "Let Grimm handle it."

"Leave me the fuck alone!" Ichigo yelled, busting through the front door and falling down the steps. Quickly he recovered and began sprinting in hopes his pursuer wouldn't catch up.

"Ichigo?" Uryu nervously watched his friend run, stumble and trip drunkenly up the sidewalk with the angry drug dealer on his trail. "Nnoitra, do something about Grimmjow." He pleaded.

Nnoitra was too busy being entertained. "Damn, Orange! That ass is tipsier than a muthafucka." he laughed.

"It's not funny! What if he hurts Ichigo?"

"Nah, I doubt that. Stop worryin' 'bout them and come 'ere." Nnoitra pulled the shorter male to his stomach. "What're ya doin' wid these tight-ass jean on? I don't like ya showin' off what's mine."

Uryu rolled his eyes. "I don't think that is the most important of issues right now."

After they were outside in the open, Grimmjow had little trouble catching Ichigo. Initially hesitating when seeing the surgery scar on the man's back, he had to bury the associated guilt before containing him by his arm.

"No!" Ichigo said adamantly. "Don't touch me."

"Chill the fuck out for a sec." Grimmjow's voice was strangely calm and incongruent to the exasperation in his expression.

Grimmjow's attitude merely added fuel to Ichigo's flames of hatred. Who was he to tell him to chill? He felt entitled to every ounce of incensed emotion and the behavior resulting.

Instead of the usually painful, rock-solid hold, Grimmjow's grip was surprisingly more lenient and Ichigo managed to maneuver out his hand. When he tried to walk off another dizzy spell struck and he tipped backwards. He would have landed on his ass but Grimmjow caught him, wrapping his arms around him so securely Ichigo felt dizzy again, and not from the mix of opiates and alcohol in his system.

Still, he was going to fight it, having already convinced himself he hated the blue-eyed ruffian. "What the fuck don't ya understand about hands off?" Ichigo said.

"Calm down 'fore yer drunk ass ends up on the ground."

At that point Ichigo would actually prefer hitting the cold, hard cement over being supported by the same person that couldn't even make a phone call after he took a bullet for him. Balling up his fist, he had an urge to punch the man dead in his face.

"Don't test me." The calmness in Grimmjow's voice had begun to waver.

"Test you?" Ichigo laughed, finding the words incredibly funny. "If I do what will happen? Gonna choke me again? Or finally use that gun you're always totin'? I've been shot before. Can't feel much worse the second time around."

At Nnoitra's convincing, Uryu tried standing on the sidelines to watch the situation play out. However, he was becoming increasingly nervous the longer he looked-on.

"Unhand me," he demanded, "I'm getting Ichigo and I'm taking him home right now."

Nnoitra shook his head and tightened his hold on the smaller one. "Didn't I say no?"

"You may trust Grimmjow, but I sure as hell don't. He has shown a pattern of unpredictable, violent behavior. I won't stand idle if I believe Ichigo is in danger. He's my friend, and-"

Cutting across the middle of Uryu's sentence, Nnoitra began jumping up and down, vigorously shaking the man he held close.

"Nnoitra, what on earth!?"

Nnoitra said nothing, with jaw dropped he merely pointed for Uryu to turn around. The shorter man did so and immediately understood his boyfriend's excitement.

Whether it was incredible passion or the intensity of their anger, lips pressed together so hard it was impossible to tell the difference. One force fought against the other until Ichigo waned and the kiss became less fierce and gentler. He tried to lift his arms to hug Grimmjow's neck but they instead dropped limply to his side. The rest of his body soon mimicked and the depressant-induced downiness placed him in a deep slumber.


	12. Chapter 12

- _You give me a feeling that I never felt before, And I deserve it, I think I deserve it. It's becoming something that's impossible to ignore, And I can't take it.._.-

Daisy shaped pineapple and cantaloupe, strategically placed strawberries and grapes, and ridged cuts of honeydew all artistically arranged in a vase to mimic flowers. Utterly disgusted, Grimmjow snorted his disapproval of the fruit arrangement, hardly believing he purchased something so ridiculous for another man. It just occurred to him the gift was like a fail attempt at self-deprecating humor, fruit for fruits.

As if the gift disrespectfully laughed in his face, he angrily tugged the ribbon sealing the cellophane bag and snatched up a slice of pineapple. He chomped it down with unnecessary force and licked the sweet, tangy fruit juice off his lips. While fruit was the current target in which he would discharge frustrations, it wasn't truly what ticked him off. Why the hell did that song have to play on the radio? He used to like "Un-thinkable" by Alicia Keys. It was a great track to light up to. Now the lyrics felt taunting in a way and he hated that.

"Fuck this," He spat, starting his car. Needing a place to think, he had sat in the parking lot of the arrangement shop for an hour contemplating whether it was a good idea or not to deliver the basket personally. There was always leaving it on the doorstep as he had previous gifts. Maybe it would be better to give Ichigo a few more days. Or maybe Grimmjow was the one that needed days; brooding like this was _not_ how he usually spent weekends. His normal rituals consisted of getting high in a dark place with deafening music, fucking someone, eating something, maybe fuck again and then go to sleep. Unfortunately, those things were no longer as fulfilling as they formally were.

Without Nnoitra, who refused to participate for obvious reasons, the club scene became lackluster, and he hadn't touched a woman since Loly's crazy-ass shot Ichigo. Even before that incident, interest in chasing random, ratchet tail had dwindled. Besides the unwanted drama, if he was with Ichigo he was content enough just hanging out. The dope dealer couldn't understand how that was possible since Ichigo, being a man, wasn't a complete replacement for a woman. He needed sexual gratification as well, but being straight he had no sexual attraction to Ichigo. At least, that's what he thought back then. Every time he felt, "some kinda way," as he would say whenever his redheaded friend got close, his body was trying to tell him he wasn't as straight as he thought.

Grimmjow originally assumed if he avoided Ichigo he'd revert to what he considered his normal self. That in turn ended up being a terrible decision. He was irritable, tortured by guilt and became anti-social, avoiding most people as anyone that didn't have pretty brown eyes and neon-orange hair easily irked the fuck out of him. And in part, he blamed Ichigo for making him feel this way.

No denying what he felt was real, so being conflicted about his feelings were no longer the issue. If anything, he was frightened by the intensity of them. He felt possessed the moment he heard Orange was locked in a room with Starrk and almost got into two accidents on the way to the party. Expecting the man to wait while he sorted through emotions was unrealistic, although he hadn't realized the extent of his jealously until faced directly with the possibility of Ichigo being with someone else. He simply couldn't allow that.

_-I was wonderin' maybe, Could I make you my baby. If we do the unthinkable would it make us look crazy? Or would it be so beautiful either way I'm sayin' If you ask me I'm ready…-_

* * *

 

With the fruit arrangement in hand, Grimmjow stood in front the door and knocked. In blue sweats, a white wife-beater and tan slippers, Ichigo answered. Orange brows leaped north upon seeing who was standing before him, then as if connected to a switch his expression flipped, going flat and disinterested.

"It's you," he monotonously announced. Ichigo's recollection of his party adventure settled amid a mess of thick fog and only bits were visible for recall. One moment he could remember was Grimmjow appearing out of nowhere to be a cockblock. He wondered if that was karma for what he did to Uryu months ago. Other than that, the last thing he remembered was tripping down some steps and then waking on the couch to a lecture from Uryu.

All things considered, Grimmjow wasn't surprised to be met with such an attitude. No worries, though. He came prepared to work on Ichigo. "What kinda greetin' is that?" he asked.

Ichigo shrugged. "Guess it's cool ya finally decided to come over?" he was questioning not only verbally but mentally if he was glad to see him once again.

"Ya guess?" Grimmjow held the basket under his arm and stepped closer to the shorter male. "Yer not happy to see me?"

Ichigo stood tall, looking Grimmjow straight in the eyes. It had been so long he forgot the way the blues could have a tranquilizing affect him. His throat suddenly felt tight, making him want to resistant further objection. However, he was fixed on being defiant. "I don't really care either way."

Grimmjow licked his lips then curled them in a smile. He ran his hand along Ichigo's bare arm and gently squeezed his elbow. "Move, let me in."

After recovering from a shiver, Ichigo found he had side stepped from the doorway without thinking twice. ". . . _damn,_ " So much for being fixed. That smooth voice, those tempting lips, nothing had changed. He was still mad, but clearly not enough to turn him away.

Grimmjow smirked and pushed the basket in Ichigo's chest. "Take it,"

"Thanks?" he replied, scanning the fruit bouquet.

They stopped in the kitchen where Ichigo made space in the fridge for the fruit.

"Aight, we need to talk." Grimmjow said once the man was done.

"We do," Ichigo agreed and started walking towards the living room.

"Nah," Grimmjow said, stopping him. "Let's go chill in yer room."

Ichigo had never taken Grimmjow to his room before and wondered about the request, although it didn't matter where they had the discussion as long as they got the chance to talk. He led the way, opening the door and flicking the light on once there. Picking up a few strewn pieces of clothing, he then put them away in the closet. Behind him, he heard the soft click of the door closing and when turning around saw Grimmjow had stripped out a hoodie and was kicking off his sneakers. Wearing just a black tank, blue denims and socks, he stretched out atop Ichigo's bed on his back with eyes shut. He looked too comfortable; Ichigo wouldn't allow the man to take over his bed. With the purpose of jarring his peace, he jumped and landed on the mattress as forceful as he could. That was a bad idea.

Not only did it not affect Grimmjow in the least, the throbbing ache Ichigo felt afterward signaled his need for opiates. Still a smidgen hungover from the party, he promised Uryu he wouldn't take any pills today. Yeah well, Uryu also didn't understand his pain. He found the amber-colored prescription bottle on his night stand and swallowed a dosage.

Grimmjow lifted his head off the bed and snatched the plastic bottle. "The fuck are these?"

"My doctor prescribed pain relievers." Ichigo said, taking them back.

"That what had ya all loopy and shit at Starrk's? How'd ya get involved wid a guy like that, anyway?"

Ichigo shifted on the bed, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the questions. "I don't know about loopy, but I was drinking too, it wasn't just the pills. And Starrk, we sort of just met, I guess. Not like it matters now."

Sitting up, Grimmjow turned to him with a serious stare. That response didn't settle well with him. Visualizing the orange-haired male lying on Starrk's bed half naked has been tormenting. He was only relieved he hadn't caught them in the act. There was no predicting what he would have done, and that's exactly why the intensity of his feelings scared him. It made no difference he never officially claimed Ichigo, that didn't change how he felt.

"Did ya fuck 'im?" Grimmjow blurted the question. "Was it the pills or do ya just get down with random muthafuckas?"

Ichigo glowered, sick of the third-degree. No, he didn't get down like that and he hated when people insinuated he did. Typically he didn't sleep with men he just met, and without the influence of drugs and alcohol he likely wouldn't have entertained the idea. However, if he had freely chosen to fuck Starrk he didn't consider that Grimmjow's business.

"I won't sit here under your scrutiny when you've been absent for weeks. I really hope this isn't why ya came over."

"Just answer the fuckin' question." Grimmjow didn't know why an answer was needed so badly, already knowing the wrong one could be disastrous. He just hated that Ichigo continually avoided an answer.

Sucking in ragged breaths, Ichigo rose from the bed and made way to the door, anxiety collecting tightly in his chest as he opened it. He couldn't believe he was about to say this, but the words left his mouth before caring to think them through.

"I can't do this, maybe some other day but not today." He never thought he'd actually kick Grimmjow out, but this discussion was going nowhere.

Seeming to understand, Grimmjow nodded with a strange, crooked smiled that couldn't be read as any specific emotion. He stood, went to the door and slammed it hard then secured the lock. Slowly he cornered the other male and pressed him against the wall.

Confused browns shifted from side to side, Ichigo wasn't sure what was going on, but if the thug was trying to intimidate him he wouldn't succumb to it. "I'm not… Ya don't scare me anymore." He stated boldly, trying to pretend he hadn't initially hesitated with uncertainly.

Grimmjow's blues met the browns with their own confusion. "I ain't tryna scare ya, dumbass."

"Then why the hell-"

Grimmjow silenced the man by acquainting their lips. As a result, Ichigo became stonelike, unable to move, forgetting how to breathe and the mechanisms of his comprehension stalled because of the overload. And yet, in a way all of this felt like déjà vu. It took a while but he was beginning to understand what was happening. Unfortunately, it was over before it started, the other man released his lips and studied him with a scowl.

Grimmjow hated to continually harp on the same shit, but, "Did ya fuck Starrk?" he asked. He just couldn't let it go. The kiss wasn't much of a kiss, just something to shock Ichigo into giving him the answer he sought. And it worked.

"Starrk? No, I never fucked Starrk." For a moment Ichigo wondered who this Starrk was. That quick he'd forgotten about the brown-haired man though was quickly reminded via Grimmjow.

Grimmjow silently exhaled, relieved by the revelation but knew the truth of the matter. "Ya sure as hell planned on it."

"What the fuck?" Ichigo voiced hotly. "It doesn't matter, I just said we didn't do anything. Why would ya kiss me then ask about another guy?"

"Shut up and listen. I know ya didn't do nothin' but don't deny what was gonna go down. If ya want dick so bad I'm gonna give it to ya." And Grimmjow wasn't asking, he was telling.

The anxiety in Ichigo's chest dropped like a heavy rock to the pit of his stomach. It created a ripple effect of nervous energy throughout his entire lower half and left a tingling sensation in his groin. The room became so cramped and hot all of a sudden, the air thick and muggy. For the second time that night he was having difficulties breathing. He moved away from the wall, away from Grimmjow.

"No," he said, shaking his head incredulously, feeling certain Grimmjow spoke nonsense. "If that's a joke or you're sayin' it out of guilt, stop. I don't need pity or whatever the hell this is."

Grimmjow grabbed the shorter male by his shoulders. "Why would I joke 'bout some shit like that?"

Ichigo refused to look at him. Why did he feel like Grimmjow would laugh in his face like he often had in the past? "You're an asshole, that's why." He said, pushing the weighty hands off his shoulders.

When Ichigo did this the unconventional patience Grimmjow was trying to show ceased to exist. He hooked his arms around the orange-haired one, lifted him to create enough leverage where they both fell on the bed and with a sweep of limbs was settled between his thighs.

"What's up? Starrk's good 'nough but I ain't? Look me in my face," Grimmjow demanded, helping Ichigo with the task by clamping his cheeks with one hand and turning his head. "Tell me ya don't want my dick."

Knowing it would be an embarrassing contradiction, Ichigo didn't bother to struggle. Even if his mouth formed naysay his body would prove him a liar. The smell of weed and sweet, tropical fruits on Grimmjow's breath was uncomfortably intoxicating, his hard body disastrously enticing and those magnetic, blue eyes downright dangerous. The conglomeration produced a highly effective stimulant. That bastard, he was irresistible.

Ichigo fought the good fight but it was time to throw in the towel. He dropped his head back against the mattress and stared at the blank ceiling. Right about now would be the part where he was supposed to forget all that happened and melt helplessly with desire under the larger man. However, it was too difficult to overlook the hurt caused from being neglected.

"A phone call at least, that's all I wanted…"

"I'm stupid. I admit it. The fuck else ya want me to say?"

"Nothin', as long as ya know." The admittance of wrongs put Ichigo more at ease. He was curious about what kind of change occurred in Grimmjow and hoped it was his life-risking actions that positively influenced it.

"We movin' on?" Grimmjow asked and Ichigo nodded. With that he reduced his weight on the smaller man and lifted Ichigo's shirt to get a look at his side. "It still hurt?"

"N-" Ichigo's voice hitched in his throat when finger tips grazed the flesh around the spot he had been wounded. It felt so good to have Grimmjow touch him in a non-threatening way. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes before continuing. "No, with the pain killers I can't feel a thing." His eyes reopened when heaviness of a body returned.

Pausing, Grimmjow had to adjust to feeling Ichigo's growing excitement against him. He realized it was the first time between a pair of legs that had anything to poke him.

Ichigo laughed nervously. "Change your mind already?"

"Hell nah," he adamantly replied. It wasn't uncomfortable, only different. If anything, he loved knowing this physically reaction was his doing. It was more satisfying than the days when his enjoyment stemmed from scaring Ichigo out his wits. Far more satisfying. Taking his hand, he slid it under the back of Ichigo's neck and forced their lips together.

This time the other half was more reciprocating. Every time lips parted Ichigo made faint whimpering sounds and introduced more tongue. He found it hard to believe this was finally happening, though the doubts didn't hinder him. Having waited so long for this moment he became greedy, wanting to taste and feel all he could. Hungrily he drove his tongue deeply into the orifice, moaning into the other's mouth when Grimmjow just as eagerly pushed back.

The thug's free hand slipped under Ichigo's wife-beater where it roamed across the indentations of a toned abdomen. He stopped along the chest area and laughed a little after remembering there wouldn't be breast to grab. Being an ass man anyway that mattered none. Still, he played with the nipples, pinching and rolling a nub hard between his fingers. Ichigo bit his lip, then wrapped his arms around that broad back and rolled his hips upward, playfully rubbing against the other's crotch.

"Fuck," Grimmjow uttered after tearing his mouth away.

Ichigo began to fret, wondering if he'd gone too far. But instead of the annoyed frown he expected, the man looked down on him with randiness gleaming darkly in his eyes.

Grimmjow never imagined kissing someone could be this arousing. He wasn't aware of just how hard he was becoming until feeling the friction against his jeans. Nipping at Ichigo's lips, chin, then down the soft skin of his neck, he left small, red bite marks on the peach-colored flesh while bucking his hips downward. He normally wouldn't be into the dry hump, tease-type shit, but it felt good with Ichigo.

Biting his kiss-bruised bottom lip, the red-head enjoyed the contact and warm breath tickling his neck. Feeling audacious, he initiated a flip by trying to roll Grimmjow over. The larger male complied, rolling them both, allowing Ichigo to be on top.

Straddling muscular thighs, Ichigo noticed Grimmjow's eyes were locked on the protrusion from his sweat pants. He pondered what sort of thoughts were traversing through his mind and wondered if he was hiding the truth of being uncomfortable with this. As much as he wanted to take full advantage of the situation he also wanted to think about the other. For all he knew, Grimmjow could be pushing his limits in order to repay a debt formed from guilt.

"I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but if this feels strange we can stop... for now. Me taking that bullet doesn't mean ya gotta do somethin' you're not really into."

Grimmjow's blinked a few times then his expression twisted to reveal his agitation. "Why would I feel strange 'bout somethin' I initiated?" There would be no truth in saying the bullet the man took in his stead played no parts in his reasoning, but it wasn't why Ichigo thought. What he felt now for the red-head had been slowly building over the months prior. Ichigo's selfless act simply gave another needed push to pursue those feelings.

"I just thought maybe-"

"Shut up and stop thinkin', yer fuckin' up the mood."

Feeling silly, Ichigo smiled sheepishly and then suddenly gasped when the blue-haired man reached up and yanked him down by his shoulders, forcing them chest to chest.

"Feel how hard ya got my dick? Don't second guess this again." Grimmjow's voice was so encumbered with lust it was a deep rumble from the back of his throat. It was almost humorous to know he was the one giving reassurance and not the other way around.

A visible shutter ran the length of Ichigo's body. Through the thick, denim fabric he could definitely feel the swollen member pressing against his stomach. It was so incredibly encouraging knowing he'd given the man such an erection. Like ignited by a reassurance that burned away any remaining reservations, aggressively Ichigo began kissing him and rolling his hips against the imprint, imagining how that cock would feel buried within him.

Grimmjow produced a low guttural sound, the taste of that mouth and the perfectly situated grinding motion pushed him to new heights of arousal. If Ichigo's enthusiasm wasn't stirring enough, the man started moving his hips faster, kissing more passionately and tangling fingers in his sky blue strands.

Placing both hand on the side of Ichigo's face, Grimmjow pulled their lips apart. "Must want my dick bad."

"Ain't it obvious?" Ichigo replied shamelessly, licking his lips.

Grimmjow sucked in a breath while taking in the flushed face and half-massed, lust-glazed eyes. He promptly reached for and fumbled with his belt briefly before Ichigo was more than happy to assist, sliding lower on the larger form until his face was to the bulging crotch. Hastily unbuckling the belt then undoing the button and zipper, he pulled the jeans down around Grimmjow's knees.

"There ya go." Grimmjow said. "Show me how much ya want it."

Ichigo glanced up with a smile before turning attention back to the large tent in the black boxer-briefs. He rubbed his hand over it while inhaling a light, stimulating musk that made his mouth water. With fingers tucked in the waistband of the briefs, he pulled them down until the erection sprung free, brushing across his chin and lips and leaving a faint trail of pre-cum.

He caught himself before his mouth dropped in awe. The member wasn't monstrously long, though not short by any means; its glory was in the thickness, so deliciously fat and veiny. He looked up to see blue orbs steadily watching him. Keeping eye contact, Ichigo held it at the base and flicked his tongue across the still leaking slit, lapping up the clear, sweet liquid oozing there.

"Tastes so good," he whispered, then sucked the cock into his mouth, swallowing it down until it hit the back of his throat.

Grimmjow emitted a loud groan and placed a hand on the back of Ichigo's head. "Hell yeah, deep throat that shit." He encouraged, then tossed his head back on the bed and let his eyes slide shut.

Ichigo energetically bobbed his head up and down, occasionally stopping mid-suck to rub his tongue along the sensitive indentation under the head, his own favorite spot. The blue-haired one opened his eyes a sliver to watch the man work. He observed Ichigo sticking his glistening tongue out to let a stream of saliva trickle down, spreading over the head and dripping down the shaft. Using his hand, he started pleasurable ministrations while his mouth went down to take in a blue-hair covered ball and gently he rolled it around with his tongue.

Grimmjow's toes curled and his teeth clamped down in his lip. "Got damn, that head game is on point." He praised.

A faint titter sounded from the red-head and he looked up, a seductive smile gracing his already lust-polished features. Ichigo's mouth skills were testing Grimmjow's control enough, that added look was almost enough to make him lose his top. But not yet, exploding all over the blush tinted face without diving into that ass would be an embarrassment. Back during the days when he was trying to mind-fuck Ichigo with teasingly sexual themed conversation, he bragged about having good dick. The thug wasn't one to talk the talk and not walk the walk. Drudgingly sitting up on the bed, Grimmjow signaled for the other to halt.

At first, Ichigo was confused until the man reached in his pocket for a condom.

"Ready?" Grimmjow asked, peeling off his tank and pushing off the remaining clothing around his knees.

Ichigo's eyes rolled over one of the many dark swirling lines etched on Grimmjow's pectorals that attached to his tattoo sleeves. While realization gradually set in, the brown eyes slowly widened. How many times has he fantasized about this very moment? Now, it was about to happen, the reality feeling surreal.

Grimmjow noticed Ichigo seemed stalled and wanted to tease him a bit. "Change ya mind already?" he questioned, repeating what the man had asked him earlier. "Ya better not be scared."

"I ain't scared." Ichigo said confidently. Although, he did wonder if the thug would be as rough as he imagined based on his aggressive personality, and if so, whether that would be a positive or negative.

"Word?" Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and his mouth hooked back in a wolfish grin. "Aight, then. I ain't goin' easy on ya."

Ichigo put on a brave face, trying to pretend the man's words and smile didn't slightly unnerve him. Anxiously rising to his knees, his wife-beater came off then the sweats followed, pushing them down along with a pair of green boxers and he casted the garments aside. Grimmjow eyed the nude body, the first thing coming into view was the straining length pointing skyward. He wondered beforehand if it would feel odd getting this close to another penis, but interestingly enough he felt nothing odd or negative in any sense. It was just a dick, same thing he had. Not a big deal. What mainly caught his attention was the nicely shaped ass. He reached around to palm a cheek, tapping the mound just to watch it gently jiggle. He rubbed and squeezed the hunk of flesh, inching closer to the Ichigo's portal. Before he got too carried away, Ichigo crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for his bed-side dresser to retrieve a small bottle of lubrication.

"This is um, I mean we need it to uh," Ichigo stammered over his words. Obviously, Grimmjow wasn't sexually inexperienced. However, he took it upon himself to explain what he figured may seem questionable, only he couldn't form much of a coherent sentence. He wouldn't have felt so apprehensive trying to explain, but with furrowed brows Grimmjow stared him down like he was a special kind of crazy - It made him nervous.

Ready to get the show on the road, Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's wrist and took a look at the label on the bottle in his hand. "Think I'm stupid?" He laughed. "I know what it's for, go'n and handle that."

Abashed, Ichigo half grinned and flipped the cap on the bottle. He felt as if he were giving a demonstration with electrifying blues intently watching him squeeze a fair amount of the clear, syrup-consistency substance on his fingers. Reaching around to his backside, he rubbed the slick liquid across his bundle. Then with his middle finger, he entered himself, slowly pressing in until it was knuckle deep. A quiet moan slipped through gently parted lips when he started moving the finger back and forth. Grimmjow watched carefully, fighting to patiently sit still while the red-head readied himself. Ichigo didn't think he would like being observed so keenly, but Grimmjow looked to be excited by his prep show and in turn it motivated him.

"Mmmm," Ichigo moaned, becoming louder and moving his hips to meet his hand after adding a second finger to the first.

Finding it impossible to continually watch, Grimmjow rose to his knees and faced him, lips finding the smaller man's collar and biting along the bone while his large hands fondled his ass and roughly spread him wide. He found himself peeping over the red-head's shoulder and breathing harder while he watched those fingers disappear in the tight canal.

Ichigo bit his bottom lip softy with the feel of heightened breath down his back. His attention shifted less from himself and more to Grimmjow, taking his tongue and running it along the sharpness of the man's jaw.

Grimmjow momentarily grew rigid then snapped to and immediately took position behind the other. Screw this patience shit.

"Bend it over bust it open for me" he said, patting Ichigo's thigh.

Ichigo figured in other words, preparations were over. Removing his fingers, he added more lube, this time slicking the cool substance on Grimmjow's ready erection. He hadn't even set the bottle down and the thug was pushing on his back until he was positioned face down, ass up.

Now that he'd come to this point Grimmjow could feel his heart beat in his ears, thumping like the heavy base in one his favorite hip hop songs. It was only yesterday the idea to sleep with Ichigo manifested out of his jealousy. In the car with Nnoitra, he casually mentioned it and a discussion ensued. Surprisingly, his friend didn't try to persuade a decision either way, but did offer from the prospective of a male top, there wasn't much difference in going from woman to men. The experience thus far proved that true. Mentally Grimmjow hadn't much prepared, although once they got started he didn't once second guess his choices and everything honestly felt natural. While he would never bolster his friend's confidence with the truth, Nnoitra had time and time again proven to be correct about many things. Grimmjow was _so_ ready for this.

And he wasn't the only one. Ichigo turned over his shoulder and had been watching him. "Everything ok?" he asked, feeling like there was too long of a pause.

"I'm good, better save the concern for yaself."

"Whatever. Are we gonna do this? Or-"

Swiftly the thug brought his hand down and cracked it over Ichigo's ass, making him yelp in a startled moan. "Don't rush me." He said. Then another loud crack echoed in the silent room, Grimmjow brought his hand down on the other cheek, this time harder. "And that's for callin' me an asshole earlier."

Ichigo jumped and smiled. Though it hurt, he admittedly enjoyed it.

Admiring his red prints on the creamy, peach skin, he finally lined up to enter. In anticipation Ichigo wiggled back, inadvertently making the cock slide up his crack and his ass bounce against Grimmjow's sack. The thug growled, sounding animalistic. That absolutely drove him wild. To prevent a second slip he held his cock steady and drove it straight in.

Both men hissed simultaneously, Grimmjow from the intensity of the tight, stifling heat and Ichigo from the initial pain of penetration. He tried to slowly adjust; however, once Grimmjow was in he gave no chance for such. He impaled him fully, grabbed his hips and moved directly into a rigorous pace. To Ichigo's luck, the pain he felt soon rode off on waves of pleasure from being so extensively filled. And when the thickness rubbed at his prostate, he voiced his delight.

"Grimmjow, yes!"

After the encouraging cry, the larger man ran his hands along the stretch of Ichigo's back and grabbed shoulders, lifting him to his elbows and diving deeper.

Ichigo's eyes rolled shut and his expression became broken. "…so good,"

Grimmjow grunted gruffly and rammed him harder. "Love that shit, don't ya?"

Ichigo moaned breathlessly in response and propelled his hips backwards, meeting the larger man's thrusts.

"Shit…" hissed the thug through his teeth. "Yeah, throw that ass back." He grabbed a fistful of orange strands, roughly yanking Ichigo's head back and slapped the still reddened spot on his backside. He began pounding him viciously, so much so that the smaller man temporarily became mute. His mouth dropped open but nothing escaped, feeling like he choked on the sounds trying to fumble from his throat. The only noises in the room were a low, primitive sort of grunting from the larger man and the lewd slaps of meeting flesh. Grimmjow's stamina allowed him to continue the ridiculous pace for extended periods, the vigorous work forming a layer of perspiration along his chest and forehead.

Ichigo reached down between his legs and yanked on his throbbing arousal, and upon doing so found his voice, but just barely.

"O-Oh my g-! F-fu- y-ye-!" he stuttered, whatever was trapped in his throat spouted from his mouth at once and he became loud and incoherent. It was almost an overwhelming, disorienting pleasure that tipped the scales towards pain. He reached for the end of the mattress and clung on, trying to pull himself towards the headboard and somewhat away from the back breaking pummel.

Wasn't happening. Grimmjow pulled him back by his shoulders, Ichigo's grip on the bed causing the sheet to pop off. He forced the red-head's upper half against the bed, tilted over him and cemented him there with his heavier body weight. "Don't run from the dick," he breathed. "Ain't no tappin' out."

All Ichigo could do was warble helplessly, the feel of hot, tingling sparks growing at the base of his spine.

Grimmjow wanted to fuck Ichigo so good that he'd never have the desire to look elsewhere for sex. The thought of him making these sounds and calling someone else's name made his blood boil. He leaned over in Ichigo's ear, voice husky. "Whose this belong to?"

". . . ." Ichigo's was finding it difficult to form words.

Grimmjow slowed his stride into hip rolling, prostate groping strokes. "I said, whose this belong to?"

"I-It's yours," he panted.

"Damn right it is. Yer mine, Ichigo."

The possession in his words and the sound of his real name spoken with that smooth, rich voice – Ichigo detonated instantly. Screaming and convulsing as stream after stream of creamy white sprang from him.

Grimmjow wasn't far behind, gritting his teeth when the clutching heat spasmed so superbly against his cock. He moved about an inch before his own building pressure exploded forth and he grabbed Ichigo's hair while blowing harsh breaths on his neck. Orgasmic pleasure washed over him, temporarily clouding his vision.

Huffing, both calmed while slowly catching their breath. Grimmjow collapsed on Ichigo's back and they slid against the bed. He laid comfortably for a moment before rolling off and stretching out.

A long period passed before either spoke, but Grimmjow was the first to break the silence.

"I'm hungry," he said unceremoniously.

Ichigo chuckled. He didn't think it was the most romantic choice of words, but wouldn't complain. "Me too,"

The blue-haired man looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Oh… Since I can't cook guess I'll order somethin'." Sitting up, Ichigo surveyed the room wondering where he left his phone.

Putting a hand on his chest, Grimmjow pushed him back down and he in turn sat up. "Nah, I got it." He found his jeans on the floor next to the bed then settled back on the covers, lying across Ichigo's chest while he rifled through pockets until finding his cell. "What'd ya want?"

What did he want? Ichigo's mind blanked at the question. As far as he was concerned right now he had all he wanted.

-O_x-

Uryu beat the wall with his fist for the umpteenth time. "Seriously Ichigo, shut the hell up!" He yelled, then threw his back against the bed, fuming. "Do they know how late it is? How many times are they going to go at it? Damn animals."

"Leave 'em alone and go back to sleep." Said Nnoitra, who was lying next to him.

"How can anyone sleep when it sounds like someone is being attacked across the hall?"

Nnoitra started to laugh until something occurred to him. "Ya never scream like that when we're fuckin'."

"That's because I have more couth than to yell like a maniac."

"Nah, I must not be hittin' it right. Come 'er," Nnoitra reached for the other dark-haired male.

"No way, absolutely not." Uryu shook his head repeated, slapping his hands away. "I have to get up early. I told you there could be none of _that_ tonight if you stayed."

"Ya can't sleep anyway."

"I'll manage somehow. If you get started then I'll never get any shut-eye. There is enough debauchery around here already. This isn't a brothel. Goodnight."

"Ain't no goodnight 'till yer on my dick."

Knowing he'd never get any sleep until complying, Uryu thought it best to just give him what he wanted and get it over with. And it wasn't that he didn't love sex with his boyfriend, because he did, but for functional purposes his body obviously needed rest. "As I said I need to wake early, so let's make this quick."

"Quick?" Nnoitra laughed like that was the punchline to a joke. "I'll fuck ya all night if I gotta. I wanna see how much of that couth ya got left when I'm done."

Uryu knew he was serious judging by the salacious look in his eye. So much for that rest he wanted. This was undoubtedly Ichigo's fault and he cursed the man under his breath.

-O_x-

Ichigo's eyes watered as he yawned heartily with his face plastered to a pillow. He waved his hand across the mattress hoping to eventually touch a warm body. When he felt nothing, not even an indentation of where one had been, he turned over and sat up, weariness and worry pressed into his features.

"I gotta go to work." Grimmjow said. He had dressed and was standing near the door while he typed a text on his cell.

With a relieved sigh, Ichigo placed a hand over his chest as if to settle his increasing heart rate. He kicked his legs out of bed, flinching as he did so, and put on his sweatpants. He was in pain from neck down, but tried not to show the discomfort in front of the other. Grimmjow did a number on him and it was far worse than how he felt after Kensei, although he was trying to forget his encounter with that irrelevant person.

Grimmjow slipped from the room ahead of him. Rubbing his eyes, Ichigo kicked on his slippers and quickly followed. Hearing the clatter of silverware and plates they went to the kitchen where their friends sat eating.

The moment they were in sight Nnoitra threw his hands up in applause. "Damn, Grimm! I heard ya knockin' it out all night. From the sounds of it, ya tore that ass up." He said, reaching across the table to give his buddy daps.

Proud, Grimmjow graced all with his wide, polished smile and met the fist with his own. "Ya know it."

Ichigo pretended the discussion didn't embarrass him and directed attention elsewhere. Stopping in the middle of the kitchen floor, he looked at his housemate sideways.

"Wow, Uryu. Ya look a mess." It was the first time in a long time he witnessed the glasses wearer with an erratic appearance. Uryu still wore his bed clothes, the shirt of which was inside out, and a head scarf, which was lopsided. He also had bags under his eyes.

"Oh shut it, loud mouth." Uryu replied. He wasn't in the mood for Ichigo's comments, especially since he had a bone to pick with him anyway. "And you," he now directed his words at Grimmjow who was riffling through the refrigerator. "I sure as hell hope you washed your hands. I can imagine where they've been and how filthy they are. Around this house there are certain things we don't do, and-"

Grimmjow yawned loudly with his mouth wide open in the middle of Uryu's speech. Having retrieved some grapes from the fruit basket, he munched on those then looked to his bestfriend. "Nnoi, it's too fuckin' early..."

Nnoitra was grinning happily, finding Uryu's running mouth adorably funny. Of course, Grimmjow and he were not the same. Slicing a large triangle from the stack of pancakes on his plate, he scooped it with a fork and stuck it in Uryu's working mouth. "Here baby, just chew."

"Time to cut the bullshit. She called." Said Grimmjow.

"Yeah, yeah." Nnoitra planted a kiss on the shorter man's pancake-filled cheek. "I'm comin' back." He told him and jumped up to leave. Grimmjow soon followed but had his exit blocked by Ichigo.

"What?" he asked, wondering why the man was in his way.

"What do ya mean, what? After last night that's all you're gonna say?"

Grimmjow stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, unsure what to do. He had little experience with the morning after since he was usually gone before the other person woke. Although this was different, it wasn't just some random person, it was Ichigo. He knew what the man wanted to hear.

"Look, I ain't used to relationships and shit, and," He stopped talking when feeling like they were a sideshow attraction. Blue orbs glanced out the door and sure enough Nnoitra stood on the sidewalk, fixed on their conversation. He felt eyes on the back of him as well. Looking over his shoulder, hanging from the kitchen cutout Uryu was as well absorbed in their exchange. "Damn nosey-asses" He grumbled.

To achieve a little privacy, he pushed Ichigo in the corner behind the door. "I ain't used to-"

"I don't care, we can work on it." Ichigo cut him short, already knowing what he would say.

Taking a step back, the drug dealer ran a hand through his hair. He didn't think he'd be traveling this road so soon but it made perfect sense. If he was going to make his claim, he had to do it right. He looked the other in his eyes and very seriously asked, "So then, ya wanna be my boo?"

The feeling of small, winged critters fluttering through Ichigo's body made him lightheaded. He was so overjoyed words escaped him and he could only nod his answer.

Grimmjow outstretched his arms and Ichigo nearly feel into them. Embracing him tight, he whispered in his ear. "Ok, but fuck 'round on me and I promise yer gonna regret the day we met. I'll kill any muthafucka dumb 'nough to touch what's mine."

A chill slid down Ichigo's spine. That promise was genuine, he could feel it. Even the tone in which the man spoke wavered with anger and it was obvious the mere thought unsettled him. He wasn't a cheater, but if ever came a time he needed more convincing, remembering their first encounter would prove a powerful deterrent. Ichigo was an eye witness to this man's willingness to kill.

After getting his message across, Grimmjow released his new boo. "I'll call," he said and left out the door.

When Ichigo looked up he noticed Uryu in the hall, looking at him with arms folded at his chest.

"Go on, say whatever." Ichigo encouraged. Nothing could ruin his mood right now.

The black-haired man adjusted his glasses and turned on his heels. Strolling off, he said, "Congratulations. It's about time." and smiled over his shoulder.

Surprised to hear that from Uryu, his eyes broadened a tad before he grinned goofily in return. He couldn't agree more, about time indeed.


	13. Chapter 13

Wide, magenta eyes peered through a raised slat of blind. The sun had begun to hide behind the block of her apartment complex, which meant the fading light would give way to those who preferred to do their illicit activities under the cover of night. Most faces were easily recognized, others not so much. This was disconcerting. Could today be the day an unfamiliar face busted down her door and introduced her to permanent sleep?

_Would he actually send another to do his dirty work?_

_Nah, unless you're uninformed you should know that ain't his style._

Damn these unyielding thoughts in her head. Loly may have been hearing voices and one pill away from a Xanax induced coma but she wasn't yet ready to request accommodation in the nuthouse. She hated being this paranoid, but until earning enough money to skip town she couldn't afford to be lackadaisical. Gin compensated his girls well, so turning tricks under his escort business steadily filled her pockets. Another week and her finances would allow starting a new life, a life free from fears shackles. With everything at stake, that was her only glimmer of hope. In the meantime, it was a sad reality of continually keeping watch over her surroundings. Infrequently leaving her dwelling, she felt imprisoned although knew it was better to be confined than risk a chance run-in with  _him_.

Loly wasn't sure whether she fell for the man or the best senses-numbing sex she'd ever experienced. If Grimmjow had no need for a main chick, she would have accepted being the side chick. In her opinion, that would've been better than being altogether discarded like a used condom. Not only was that embarrassing and hurtful, but enraging. The ultimate insult had to be the fact he enjoyed the company of another man while behaving as if she was nonexistent. What was Grimmjow trying to insinuate? After their dealings he preferred his own gender? The man even had the audacity to bring the orange-headed fairy to their hood, riding around together like there is nothing indecent about their relationship. She expected as much from Nnoitra, never Grimmjow. The display was nothing other than blatant disrespect to her pride as a woman, that's how Loly saw it. She was determined to make Grimmjow suffer for such indiscretion. Unfortunately, that hadn't worked as planned.

With all the unbridled emotion driving her actions she pulled the trigger, the rage blurring her vision. Not until after the fact did she realize the fairy decided to play hero and jumped in front to take the bullet.  _What the actual fuck?_  To say the least. Loly only wished she had gathered her composure enough to fire another shot and eradicate the man likely out to avenge the attempt on his life. If ever given a second chance, she'd rectify her mistake and dispose of Grimmjow once and for all.

With the thought in mind, the pigtail-wearing woman left the blinds at her window to fetch her gun from the bedroom. Although a significant amount of time had passed since the shooting incident, her fears still shaped her very existence. The idea of being attacked while she slept left her waking in cold sweats throughout the night. Keeping the weapon next to her pillow was all she could do for reassurance. En route to the bed quarters, a loud knocking at the door had her feeling like she would jump out her skin. Since becoming a recluse, she only opened the door for Menoly, who was her her best friend, and another individual who came to be her new dope dealer. The blue-haired ruffian didn't know where she lived, or at least she hoped to take solace in that, but knew wishful thinking could get her killed. Let Grimmjow tell it and the entire hood was his domain, a claim few bothered to contest. A man with his reputation could easily acquire her whereabouts.

Standing against the wall and a safe distance from the door and window, Loly called to the knocker, asking, "Who the hell is it?"

"Damn, girl, just open up. I swear jawns stay trippin'." replied the voice from outside.

Loly stalked near the door and stuck her eye to the peephole. Once recognizing the blond on her stoop, she unlatched the chain and deadbolt sealing the door. "Got what I asked for?"

The blond grinned, showcasing entirely too much of his teeth. "Ya know it."

Loly narrowed her eyes at the ridiculous way the man smiled. His happy demeanor felt like another contaminate to her already soured mood. "Shinji, why're ya smilin' like a dipshit?" She asked. "It pisses me off." Something about the man unsettled her. It could've been not knowing him long enough to form trust; but then again she also didn't like the look of his face. She met Shinji through women she escorted with. He was one of the few dealers that made house calls and sold a wide variety of high quality product.

"Ah, yes!" Shinji exclaimed as if suddenly enlightened. "I definitely feel it. I'm smilin' 'cus I can tell. That attitude, it means ya need the dick. Just say the word, girl. "

Loly stared in disbelief at his obscured deduction and rolled her eyes, walking away to grab her purse off the couch. "Must ya always be a dumbass? Take the thirsty shit elsewhere. I'm a workin' woman. If I gotta pay for the pills you gotta pay for the pussy."

"I'm playin', don't trip. Should show a lil' less attitude, Loly. Never know when's the last time ya might talk to a person." Shinji followed the suggestion with laugher, but the tone of it rang darkly in Loly's ears.

When she turned around with her payment, a sickle-sharp shiver started from the peak of her spine and traveled down to the tips of her toes, pinning her to the floor. In the few seconds her back was to the door, Shinji disappeared and the sight of the blue-haired figure in his place had her heart pounding as though it were attempting to escape from her chest. Although lacking comprehension, she could feel her legs running her forward without command; survival demanded she stop Grimmjow before he crossed the threshold. In a silent rejoice she reached and swung the door just as he was putting his hand up, the jubilation short-lived when an opposing force behind the wood sent her flying backwards.

Before Loly could clear the white, fuzzy dots out of her vision, she felt a sharp yanking on her hair. Grimmjow held both of her ponytails in one hand, using them to drag the small, kicking and screaming woman across the laminate floors of the apartment. They came to a stop once reaching the living room and the thug loosened the grip on her hair while stooping to eye level.

"Ya know why I'm here." he stated, blue orbs darkened with violent intend. "Goin' on a date in a few, so let's make this shit quick."

"A date with the fairy?" Loly asked. Despite the imminent danger she also laughed, albeit partially in disbelief. "Can't believe you'd end up a participant of faggotry. Fuckin' homo-thug bitc-"

A powerful, backhanded slap across the face from Grimmjow knocked the insult right out her mouth. She glared at him with all the hate she could muster and spat the bitter blood forming on her lip in his face. Shouting, "fuck you!" as her eyes watered. If she was about to die damned if it be quietly.

Grimmjow wiped the spittle off with his t-shirt, the blackness of it concealing the red substance, and then stood while releasing Loly's hair. He wanted both hands to steady the handle of a large sledgehammer. A tingling sensation slid down Loly's back and her whole body shook as the tool came into view. She hadn't seen it when he attacked her at the door. For a moment she dared to wonder where it came from, though irrelevant thoughts quickly fled when he lifted the weapon and cold iron came crashing down on her ankle. The cringe-inducing, horror movie screech that ripped from her throat paled only in comparison to the repulsive crunch of shattering bone. The pain made her nauseous and in a delusional defense, she used her hands to block the incoming second swing. Her fingers, along with her knee, cracked under the hammers pressure and her vision clouded, leaving her in a hazed state of the worse agony she'd ever felt. Loly witnessed the hammer rise once more before blacking out.

When the woman came jolting back to the excruciating reality, her legs were a smashed, bruised and bloody wreck from thigh down. The sight of her own busted and split flesh disgusted her. She managed to force down the bile rising in her throat, not wanting to give Grimmjow any more satisfaction in what he's done. "J-Just kill me." She whispered, knowing she couldn't take any more of this deranged torture.

Mouth full of a chocolate chip granola bar, Grimmjow chewed noisily at the request. Unfazed by the degree of the woman's injuries, he became bored while waiting for her to regain consciousness and grabbed a snack out her kitchen. He finished the last piece then dropped the rapper in her face before addressing her. "Nah, not yet." he said, picking up the sledgehammer and watching her flinch. Placing the tool over his shoulders, he walked away instead of continuing where he left off.

"Why w-wait? Just kill me now!" she demanded. "Kill me, ya fuckin' piece o' shit. Just kill me… " Loly trailed off in broken sobs.

Grimmjow took satisfaction in her plea. Although a fan of mind games, this creative approach as a deterrent was far too complicated for his style. His preferred, sure-fired solution would have been a bullet in Loly's brain. Dead and done. Ichigo, however, asked that he spare her life. Ichigo sympathized with Loly, claiming to understand the driving force behind her actions. He hadn't died and saw no reason for her to suffer a grim fate.

This was only a reminder to Grimmjow how Ichigo and he were from different sides of the tracks. Such empathy was vacant in Grimmjow's world. He knew it could lead foolish men to their demise. So only this once, for Ichigo, he would heed the request. Being a man of his word, the thug left the woman breathing. Unfortunately for Loly, however, this request also had an exploitable loophole. The compassionate red-head had been too specific in asking that Grimmjow spare her. Ichigo never asked for anyone else to show the same mercy.

"Shin, do it." Grimmjow said, delegating the task to the man who'd been waiting outside the door.

Shinji stepped into the apartment and what he saw shocked him into a state of sickened silence. It wasn't the first time he'd witnessed Grimmjow's handiwork, but the damage inflicted here looked more like the woman had tangoed with a tractor trailer. Clearly, this was personal. He wasn't sure what Loly had done and didn't need to know. Grimmjow and he had a you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours type of relationship. It wasn't the first time they worked together. Nnoitra didn't participate in these types of encounters, it wasn't his scene. The man has never killed anyone and left the murdering aspect of their lifestyle to Grimmjow.

Eyes glassed over and fixed on the ceiling, Loly looked to be slipping into a daze like overdosing off the pain that would, in a moment, send her back into unconsciousness. Then, as if scripted she rolled her eyes over to Shinji at the exact moment he pulled the revolver from his jeans' waist. The blond hesitated only a second while trying to erase all the interactions he's had with the doomed woman over the last several weeks. They hadn't formed a bond, but he knew she likely felt some sense of betrayal.

"Consider this me puttin' ya out yer misery." Shinji said, as he raised the gun and aimed at her head.

X_x_X

"You're late." Uryū announced, standing outside the Hummer clutching a duffle bag. "I have a good mind to call this date off."

"These hoes ain't loyal," Grimmjow stated in a singsong voice.

Nnoitra turned up the Chris Brown and Lil Wayne track humming low from the speakers, hoping to indicate Grimmjow's comment pertained to the song. "Was puttin' in work, but we here now so hop in." he said in response to Uryū.

The glasses wearer had his brows furrowed at the blue-haired occupant in the front passenger's chair. "I can't, someone is in my seat. And if you think I'm sitting in the back, think again."

With his elbow Nnoitra nudged his friend then jerked his head toward the rear seating, signaling him to move.

Grimmjow leered at him out the corner of his eyes. "Pussy-whipped muthafucka. Make 'im sit his ass in the back. The fuck I look like movin'?"

Uryū chuckled flatly. "You've confused me with someone else. No one can make me do anything. Just move like he asked. Have you always lived your life being so problematic?"

Grimmjow tried to remain calm despite becoming increasingly peeved, the build making his eye twitch. "Nnoi, put ya bitch in check 'fore I do it for you."

Uryū adjusted his glasses and glared through the lens. "I'd like to see you try."

"Ay," Nnoitra cut across them before tempers flared out of control. "both of ya chill the fuck out." He hoped this wasn't the beginning of an argument-filled night. Since agreeing to the double date there was the assumption the two would be civil with each other. Already that was proving not to be the case. "Grimm, look," he said, pointing across him at Ichigo who had just emerged from the house. "Orange sittin' in the back. Wouldn't ya rather chill wid ya boo while we ride?"

Despite the more favorable proposal, Grimmjow grunted his decline and stubbornly refused to budge. Even as Ichigo approached, his aggravation stemming from Nnoitra's easily bendable willpower in regards to his boyfriend made it so he wasn't in the mood for a happy hello.

Coming to stand behind Uryū, an outward show of his excitement was plastered across Ichigo's face in the grin he wore. "Sup?" he greeted calmly although on the inside he was ready to burst with elation.

Glancing in his direction, Grimmjow found he did a double-take, unable to divert his eyes upon detecting a difference in Ichigo. His eyes sparkled like tinsel, smile dazzled a snowy white and his skin had a radiant glow. He wondered if a physical change had actually occurred or since becoming a pair was he beginning to see him in a refreshed light. Noticing Ichigo had a rather attractively pretty look, particularly about the eyes, troubled Grimmjow greatly in the past. However, since coming to terms with his feelings, with surety he could admit Ichigo was an absolute ten in the looks department, a dime as he liked to say.

Everything in Grimmjow's obdurate nature told him not to give up his seat, it would please Nnoitra's irritating mate, but he couldn't help but want to sit next to Orange,  _his_  Orange.

"Aight, aight, shit…" he groused. Grimmjow swung the door open, almost hit Uryū with it, and stepped out the truck. Opening the back door, he helped Ichigo inside with a rushed push and settled in next to him.

Uryū smiled triumphantly while claiming the front seat and Nnoitra leaned over to kiss him before pulling away from the curb. Ichigo looked to the man beside him hoping for similar but ended up sulking a little when Grimmjow remained aloof.

Nnoitra watched this from the rear-view mirror and laughed while deciding to add his two-cents. "Yer 'posed to kiss 'im, Grimm."

The man met his stare in the mirror and snorted. "The fuck for?" Grimmjow could see no purpose in random bouts of affection for no reason, especially in front of prying eyes.

"Cus, they dig the affectionate shit, it keeps 'em content." Nnoitra explained.

Grimmjow's eyes landed on the orange-haired male, as if, surprisingly, seeking his opinion.

Ichigo squirmed, uncomfortable from feeling like he'd just been thrown under a spotlight. Naturally he craved more affection, but stressing the issue with the temperamental thug didn't seem like the ideal course to take. Regardless of what they'd already done privately, he figured Grimmjow wasn't ready for a transition to public displays. Given time he'd come around, or so Ichigo hoped, anyway.

"Whatever, it's fine." Ichigo said with a falsified disinterest in the matter.

After witnessing the disappointment first hand, Nnoitra refused to sit quietly and let Ichigo's lie set roots. "Cut the bullshit, Orange. I'm tryna help ya'll simple-ass fools. How's Grimm gonna know what to do if ya keep 'im in the dark? Grimm, I'm tellin' ya, skimp on that little shit and they'll bitch 'bout it. Shit will drive ya crazy."

Nnoitra hadn't planned on being a relationship advisor today, but knowing Grimmjow's inexperience with romantic endeavors he couldn't hold his tongue. He foresaw in the future Grimmjow's lack of affection becoming the base of an argument which could evolve into something worse. It had taken too long for the two to get together for rifts to form over minuscule matters.

Eyes alternating between Nnoitra and Grimmjow, Ichigo hesitantly nodded in agreement. "Guess that's true, too."

For a lengthy period Grimmjow stared at the red-head sternly. He wasn't entirely ignorant, wondering if some of his previous actions made it so Ichigo was reluctant in being frank with him. Whatever the issue, he needed to set him straight right here and now. Slowly leaning in closer to the male, Grimmjow reached over and touched the red-head's face, tenderly at first, then clamped his cheeks between his hand, squeezing his face hard.

Ichigo stared blankly, ridding himself of a reaction, or so he tried in spite of his face becoming increasing warm against the man's hands. If Grimmjow was about to comply, stubborn as he is, Ichigo saw fit not to get overly excited or the thug might regret his decision.

Stopping just short of a meeting of lips, Grimmjow said, "Frauds, that's that shit I don't like. Keep it one hunnid, always. Got me?" Squeezing Ichigo's face forced his lips to pucker in a way which gave the appearance of an angry pout. It was unarguably one of the cutest faces Grimmjow's ever seen. He chuckled before releasing the man and giving him a forceful but playful push.

Disgruntled and massaging the muscles in his face, Ichigo was ready to give Grimmjow a piece of his mind until he saw the man was smiling. Soon enough he softened and Grimmjow's contagious grin spread across his face as well. He still didn't fully understand the mechanics of their interactions and knew he possibly never would.

X_X_X

A bowling alley isn't what Ichigo considered the most fitting setting for a first date. Aside from the fact he didn't find an atmosphere of pop mixes, gaudy neon lights and the incessant crash of falling pins romantic, he wasn't the sport's biggest fan. His distaste was justified due to past experiences of what were supposed to be fun, casual games against Uryū, who'd been a regional champion in middle and high school. Only from experience has Ichigo learned never to involve Uryū in anything competitive.

Upon securing a lane, the men approached the half-circle shaped counter of the shoe rental desk where a young woman stood. "Hi, fellas! What sizes do you need?" she asked, ready to assist.

"I only wear my own custom made bowling shoes, which I've brought with me." Uryū announced proudly, as if indicating having a personal pair of shoes was a reflection of his abilities.

Ichigo was tempted to inform Uryū that no one cared about his shoes. Every time they entered a bowling alley he had to hear about them. Instead, he asked for a size ten and tried to ignore what he foresaw as a nerve-testing night.

"Thirteen," the smoothness of Grimmjow's voice caressed Ichigo's ear and he shuttered, unaware the other was standing but a couple inches behind him.

The employee looked to Nnoitra, the only one yet to give his size.

"Oh, seventeen," he said, rocking back on his heels.

In disbelief the woman leaned over the counter to view the man's feet. "Oh!" she gasped after confirming the side of his clodhoppers. Curiously, her eyes traveled up his legs and stopped below his waistband.

In response to her surprise, Nnoitra chucked and uttered a confident, "sho-nuff,"

"I see," she replied, her tone becoming flirtatious.

With a loud, attention demanding thud, Uryū dropped his duffle bag on the counter. "You're getting paid to work, so work." he said, addressing the young woman.

The young lady flashed a perfunctory smile at the shorter black haired male before disappearing to a back room. After returning, she smiled again, genuinely this time, at Nnoitra while placing the shoes on the counter.

Uryū snatched the largest pair and pushed them at his partner's stomach. "Let's go." He said, glaring. He took a deep breath and attempted to blow away the feeling of being irritated. Remembering why they were there, he made way to a bench and changed into his custom  footwear. From his duffle bag he pulled a shiny, blue-marbled ball and began buffing it with a white cloth. "Well, men," Uryū said as the others joined him on the bench. "I hope you all will be good sports in the face of defeat."

" _Oh god…"_  Ichigo thought. There were times when he found Uryū's competitive nature amusing, but too often his friend would turn into a victory-seeking madman. Uryū rubbing his triumph in his opponent's face after a victory was also particularly grating. "Can we actually begin the game before gloating?"

"No one likes the attitude of a sore loser, Ichigo. You should be accustomed to this. Shall I refresh your memory of our last game?" Uryū scoffed.

Grimmjow felt a cramp form in his neck as Uryū continued on. "Stop talkin' shit. Either be 'bout it or shut up." he chided.

At first Uryū acted as if the lout went unheard, but his spirit of competitiveness wanted to entertain the challenge. "Eager to lose I see. That's fine by me."

Dashing to the edge of the lane, Uryū was happily up first. Standing poised with feet together and the ball level with his chest, he tossed his arm back then precisely rolled the ball forward. It shot down the lane and flew into the pins, each one collapsing onto the wooden floor. "Yes!" He celebrated, clutching his fists to his side.

Nnoitra applauded the strike. "I see my baby got skills."

Uryū grinned, although he wasn't one to let praise be a distraction. "While I appreciate the compliment, please know flattery won't make me go easier on you."

"That's aight," Nnoitra said, looking down at the smaller frame that had returned to the seat beside him. Then, snapping his fingers he gained the attention of his best friend. "Grimm, show 'em,"

From his chair the blue-haired man reached over to the ramp to select a ball. He picked up several, lifting them like barbells to measure weight and test their grips. Ichigo watched this curiously until the man decided on a bright colored globe.

Nnoitra grinned, like excited to reveal one of the world's best kept secrets. "Besides, I ain't the one ya gotta worry 'bout beatin'."

Uryū looked up at him, perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

The sudden crash coming from their lane answered his question. Snapping his attention towards the sound, he saw Grimmjow resting his back against his seat while smirking.

Eyes wide from amazement, Ichigo witnessed Grimmjow effortlessly whip the heavy bowling ball down their lane as if he were simply tossing dice. Somehow, he made a strike all without leaving his chair. "That was pretty awesome." Ichigo said, impressed. He may not have been a challenge for Uryū, but it looked liked this wouldn't be a runaway game after all.

"All in the wrist, Orange, all in the wrist." Grimmjow replied coolly.

"I don't know how you managed that without so much as standing," Uryū said, trying to hide the fact he, too, was impressed. "but I'm pretty sure that's against the rules."

Grimmjow shrugged. "Ain't never heard no rule that said ya gotta stand. Don't nobody wanna keep gettin' up and down to throw a damn ball."

"What a joke." Uryū said with a derisive laugh. "I can't tell whether you're arrogant or lazy. So be it. Whose turn is it?" he asked while immediately deciding the next player. "Ichigo, go."

_45 minutes later…_

"You and I may have tied, Grimmjow, but this roll-off will determine the victor. If I claim this final strike this will be my victory. So, you can calm that crazy smirking you've been doing the whole game." Uryū made his final declaration before lifting the ball to his chest.

"Cool," Grimmjow mumbled, while cleaning his nails with a folded piece of paper. Having lost interest mid-game, he found the self-manicure more stimulating at this point. "Ain't know it was that serious."

"It ain't," Nnoitra assured.

Standing steady in his throwing stance, Uryū was trying to block all distraction and concentrate on the goal. He has never lost a game and would ensure this wouldn't be his first, especially not to the likes of Grimmjow. Just as he was ready to release the ball and claim his triumph he was suddenly grabbed from behind. The surprise caused the ball to slip from his hand and curve into the gutter.

The taller man instantly recognized his mistake when Uryū spun around and reached up to jab his chest with a slender finger. He thought Uryū looked much cuter when he wasn't so serious and thought to calm him down.

"What the hell, Nnoitra? Do you realize what you've just made me do? Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is? Well, do you?" He demanded an answer and looked angry enough to spit fire. Between this and the flirting stunt earlier at the rental counter he was finding it impossible to remain calm and collected.

Nnoitra's form stiffened and he didn't bother to hide his own resentment. "Who the fuck ya think yer yellin' at? Don't get shit twisted and forget who yer talkin' to."

Uryū opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find any words to express his shock over the manner in which Nnoitra responded to him. His expression took on a deep frown and he rushed off past fellow bowlers into the solace of the restroom. Nnoitra was right behind him, not letting him escape so easily.

Grimmjow tossed his head back and laughed, finding the display the funniest thing he's seen all day.

Considering the uncomfortable air remaining after the outbursts, Ichigo couldn't be as amused as Grimmjow. "Uryū was so sure of himself, so I'm not surprised he caused a scene. But Nnoitra, I don't think I ever heard him talk to Uryū like that. I wonder if they'll be alright."

"Don't forget, we're still from the hood even though we fuck wid you types." Said the thug. "'Bout time Nnoi let 'im know what's good."

" _You types…?"_  Ichigo tried to ignore how offensive that sounded and focused on the point Grimmjow was trying to make. While dealing with such a difference in background may seem more trouble than it's worth, he knew the contrast was part of the magnetism. And despite all of what he's already been though, deep down a brewing dread told him their relationship was far from smooth sailing.

While waiting out their friends with small talk, Ichigo paid little attention to the two men settling in the lane beside them until the shine of silver hair piqued his curiosity. He looked over and much to his dismay he spotted none other than Kensei. It seemed his ex hadn't noticed him yet, or so the man pretended. Ichigo's Cheetos colored mane wasn't easily overlooked. Considering he sat beside someone with equally, if not more so, distinguishing hair, it seemed unbelievable. The relentless staring from the other familiar face Kensei was with, however, made Ichigo know they were aware of his presence. It was reminiscent of the eye exchange, disapproving glare and all, that Ichigo had with the black-haired man the last time he witnessed Kensei and him together. Shūhei somebody, but as far as Ichigo was concerned the name wasn't relevant. Kensei and his new but old boyfriend, Ichigo hoped to never see either of the two again and yet there they were that night, of all places. How wonderful.

The couple sat down and Kensei draped his arm around the black-haired man. Shūhei took advantage of Ichigo's curious glances and looked over with a blatant simper on his face.

Not caring how immature, Ichigo tossed up his middle finger, a well overdue 'fuck you' in his opinion, while inching closer to Grimmjow. He wanted to show he had moved on with another and wasn't hung up on Kensei.

This now had Grimmjow interested so he leaned over to inquire in Ichigo's ear. "Know 'im?"

"Unfortunately. The one with silver hair is my ex, the asshole that keeps lookin' this way is his boyfriend."

Grimmjow couldn't care less concerning the details of the past relationship; from that moment on he decided he didn't like Kensei. "He ain't shit." He berated.

Too occupied to notice the return, Uryū loudly cleared his throat to gain attention. "Congratulations." he said, and extended a hand to Grimmjow.

Grimmjow viewed the man with doubt then looked to Nnoitra for clarification, who stood behind the shorter male as an overseer.

"Excuse me," Uryū said, indignant. "This only concerns you and I. My loss was obviously due to a fluke, but I'm congratulating you on your win nonetheless." He stated, looking the blue-haired man square in his eyes. "Also, I demand a rematch."

Grimmjow still found this entire display suspect, but had no qualms being civil for the time being. "Word," he consented, "some other night." He accepted the others hand in a friendly shake to seal the deal.

"Agreed," Uryū said with a slight smile.

Ichigo was impressed with the drastic shift in Uryū's mood, especially after losing a challenge. He wasn't sure what Nnoitra did or said to accomplish such but it was a job well done. That aside, the bothersome feeling of being watched needed to be addressed. He could almost feel the animosity emanating from the nearby lane and sure enough Shūhei's eyes were fix in their direction, his expression bordering amused despite being flipped the bird.

"Hey," Ichigo called out to the other lane. "ya gotta eye problem or what's your deal?"

Shūhei turned to Kensei and made an inaudible comment from Ichigo's end. Whatever he said brought humored grins to both men's faces. "Are you talking to me?" he asked, taking the exchange as a joke.

Ichigo didn't appreciate being interpreted as a clown. "I guess you're about as dumb as the tattoo on your face makes ya look. Who the hell else would I be talkin' to?"

For Shūhei, insulting the tattoo, which held great significance, stripped the humor away from the situation. "Come talk that shit to my face." he dared, and by standing indicated he was serious.

Without hesitating Ichigo was on his feet, hair bristling, adrenaline pumping and too ready for a confrontation.

"Oh shit! It's 'bout to pop off." Said Nnoitra as he pulled out his phone, ready to record any action. "Worldstar!"

"Really, Nnoitra?" Uryū looked up at the taller male, shaking his head. "Don't encourage it!"

Ichigo didn't need encouraging. His upper body had started to tense and his hands balled into tight fists. His aura shifted from being slightly bothered to feeling ready to knock down a wall. He understood this escalation. Forced to face and accept the hurt he eluded after being ignored by Kensei caught up with him at lightning speed. It wasn't tackling the roots of the problem but he had no issue chopping at the limbs until satisfied.

Shūhei had his own reasons to hold a grudge against Ichigo. In his opinion the man took advantage of lovers at odds. The relationship between Kensei and he should have never happened. He wasn't typically for engaging childish altercations, but after a few words with Ichigo he wanted to lay the bastard flat. Luckily for him, he wouldn't have far to go to do so; Ichigo had stepped within Shūhei's arm reach.

"Sup, fool?" Ichigo asked, his demeanor composed as he waited for Shūhei to make the first move.

Grimmjow's amusement spread widely across his face. He was quite entertained by  _this_  Orange and was curious to see how the encounter would play out. He could feel Ichigo's aggression and see it in his muscles, his stance – the man wanted to fight. A rule of his hood was you only start what you planned to finish. So Ichigo had better not get his ass kicked, or Grimmjow would make sure he never heard the end of it.

Kensei, on the other hand, wasn't looking forward to a match. "Shūhei, no." he said sternly. "Don't feed into it."

"You," Ichigo pointed at the silver-haired man. "do me a favor and shut the fuck up."

"Watch yourself." Shūhei warned while closing some distance between the red-head and himself.

Getting too close for comfort, Ichigo reacted by pushing him away and thus initiated the incoming brawl. Shūhei promptly returned the shove with more force and sent Ichigo into the nearest ball rack. His back slammed into the sturdy metal holder and the commotion brought a few on-looking eyes. Ichigo breathed unsteadily on his hands and knees to cope with the pain. That definitely left a bruise. As Shūhei was on the move, he pulled himself together and hopped to his feet to meet the man half way. Ichigo learned from his last fight with Grimmjow not to put all his force behind a single punch. He tested a reaction with a weak left hook and as he predicted Shūhei dodged backwards. That's when Ichigo hit him with a hard right and felt the impact to the man's jaw resonate through his fist. Looking like a drunk, Shūhei stumbled sideways until flipping over one of the benches.

Grimmjow rose to his feet with wild eyes and a thrilled grin. "Hell yeah!" he barked, rooting as if he just secured his winning bet on an MMA match.

Once regaining control of his footing, Shūhei came charging, tackling Ichigo at full force into a wall and pinning him there with his forearm against the red-head's throat like a blade. Before he could fully take advantage, Ichigo kneed him violently in the stomach and knocked him to the floor. While Shūhei curled into a ball clenching his abdomen, Ichigo straddled him and raised his fist to deal the finishing blow. In the midst of his strike, his hand froze in mid-air and he couldn't understand why his strength was no longer his own. That's when Ichigo realized someone was holding his wrist. He tilted his head enough to see Kensei standing over him, stopping him from kneading his fist into Shūhei's face.

No longer entertained, it was Grimmjow's turn to intervene. He wasn't angry Kensei stopped the fight. A simple fact was no one had permission to touch what was his. Before he could reach them, however, the establishment's manager stepped in and stated authorities had been called.

Yanking his wrist from Kensei's grip, Ichigo climbed to his feet. "Whatever," he mumbled and joined Uryū and Nnoitra near the exit.

"Oh, Ichigo, of all the stunts!" Uryū exclaimed. "Wait until this incident reaches my father. I don't even want to hear it. He's going to-"

"Ugh," Ichigo grunted. "I don't wanna hear it either. So shut up, would ya?"

Uryū snapped his mouth closed and crossed his arms. He hoped Ichigo knew they weren't done with this conversation.

One male threatening to inflict bodily harm and the other daring him to try, no words necessary just testosterone fueled glares. With the lingering hostility, Grimmjow and Kensei were reluctant to turn their back to the other. Then again, the idea of cops invading the space had Grimmjow more than a little annoyed. He looked Kensei up and down dismissively, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned in the direction of his group. Before getting too far he received some parting advice.

"Learn how to keep better control over that fucking animal." Kensei said soberly, then knelt down to check on Shūhei.

The blue-haired thug turned back around without missing a step. "The fuck ya just say?"

"Do you have a hearing problem?" Kensei rose to his feet and speaking slowly, repeated, "Contr-"

An interruption by the way of Grimmjow's iron-hard fist to the nose told Kensei Grimmjow could hear just fine. The silver haired male fell backwards into a group of staff that immediately restrained him as he lunged and struggled like a freshly captured bear. Blood trickled freely from his nose and he clenched his teeth with shattering force, wishing so badly he could get his hands on Grimmjow. Grimmjow graced him with a smiled before leaving to catch up with the others.

In the parking lot, from behind Ichigo felt a tight grab on his arm and he roughly snatched away, his stance becoming offensive.

"Word? Let's go." Grimmjow said, putting his fists up into a boxing position.

Ichigo relaxed his guard then slowly and with much confusion retook a fighting pose.

"I'm playin'," Grimmjow laughed and again grabbed Ichigo's arm. "Lemme see." He began to roughly inspect the smaller man for injuries.

Holding his arms defensively in resistance, Ichigo didn't like being picked at. "I'm fine." He said, although he did appreciate the concern.

Placing both hands on Ichigo's shoulders, Grimmjow shook the man gently while grinning proudly. "Ya had 'im. Was all you."

"Yeah?" Ichigo replied unsure.

Grimmjow nodded and gently squeezed Ichigo's shoulders. "Ya did good." He assured. "I guess my boo can hold his own."

For a moment Ichigo simply starred into the sea of blue, cherishing the feeling of a compliment making his insides melt like ice cream on a summer's day. It wasn't a tender kiss or a loving embrace, but sometimes the right words spoken the right way could achieve the same effect.

My boo. Damn, Ichigo loved the sound of that.

"Hello!?" Uryū impatiently yelled from the window of the Hummer. "Some time tonight unless you're planning to greet the police when they arrive."

While Ichigo didn't appreciate the interruption during what was supposed to be an intimate moment, he understood Uryū's urgency. The threat of cops didn't shake him personally, but Uryū had a dislike for law enforcement because some were informants that reported directly to his father. It was also rumored that the cities crooked cops and Ryūken dealt shadily with one another. Uryū's father always dismissed, though never admitting or denying the gossip. So there was enough reason to avoid badges without being reminded Nnoitra and Grimmjow had obvious reasons to stay off the grid.

The blue-haired drug dealer knew the deal and hightailed it to the Hummer. Ichigo was the last to enter the vehicle and they finally hit the highway.

"I still can't believe you, Ichigo." Uryū said, shaking his head while looking in the rear-view mirror.

Ichigo sunk low into his seat and initiated his ability to tune Uryū out. He wasn't for another lecture this soon.

"Listen to me. If they come to our house you're explaining everything. I want no parts of it."

Nnoitra became intrigued, wondering if Uryū was really that bothered about the cops. "We're good, babe. No badges will come knockin' on yer door."

"No, not them." Uryū said with a worried sigh. "It's my father's guards. His little henchmen have the tendency to check on us randomly. Or, thanks to Ichigo, after events like this since they're in cahoots with the local police department."

"Pops sounds prominent as fuck. When can I meet 'im, anyway? Gotta ask for his son's hand in marriage. Ya know, do it the right way."

"You don't want to meet my father, trust me. And if that's your way of suggesting we get married I hope you plan a better proposal than that if you expect me to say yes."

Guards? Badge connections? Random check ups? Nnoitra may have disregarded the information but none of that sat well with Grimmjow. Normally, as long as it caused him no trouble he couldn't spare enough fucks to concern himself. Although as he listened to the chatter he couldn't help but wonder who exactly Glasses' father is.


	14. Chapter 14

 How long does it take a man to prepare for a date? Grimmjow could only wonder, as the answer continued to elude him. Being of the male species himself, he knew the time frame in which it took to shower, shave and get dressed. From his perspective Ichigo could have done those things twice over. That damned red-head was special, had Grimmjow been parked outside waiting for anyone else he would have hightailed it elsewhere by now. He thought a perk of dating another man was getting to avoid that awful wait on date night. The one where the man was supposed to sit patiently while the woman went in circles indecisively trying on outfits and touching up hair in the mirror. Grimmjow imagined Ichigo doing those things and smiled, wanting to believe the man was taking his sweet time trying to look good for their rendezvous. His boo would.

In retrospect it should have felt strange calling anyone, especially another man, his boo. Yet, the thug found himself referring to Ichigo as such unconsciously. He hoped to avoid becoming too absorbed in those thoughts, although he still questioned if he's truly been in denial most of his life. He wouldn't second guess his choice to be with Ichigo, it was simply something he pondered upon. The culprit of these questions were the only drawback of his herb habit, all that smoking had his thoughts provoked on some deep shit. Luckily for Grimmjow the positive outweighed the negative. Descending from his high left him comfortably chilled and uncharacteristically patient.

Finally, the front door opened but to Grimmjow's disappointment the head that popped out wasn't the one he'd been waiting to see. Uryū hung on the doorframe mouthing something while visibly disgruntled. Grimmjow paid the man little heed. For a change Ichigo would be going out and Uryū would be home alone, as this was a night when Nnoitra wasn't affixed to the glasses wearer. Instead, the lanky man was busy handling some business with their boss. Grimmjow imagined Uryū was vexed as a result. Guess that was too bad for him.

Besides, even if Grimmjow actually cared what was being said he couldn't hear a word Glasses was saying because Drake was blasting through his car's speakers and drowning out any other noise. Ironically, if he were to read lips it looked like a complaint of the music being too loud. To spite him, Grimmjow cranked up the volume louder and watched the hilarious act of Uryū running off at the mouth while pointing accusingly at his vehicle. The best part was his soundless ranting was almost timed with the music so it looked like he was trying to rap the song.

"OK Glasses, I see ya spittin' the hook! _I'm on my worst behavior, no? They used to never wanna hear us. Remember? Muthafucka never loved us."_ Grimmjow sang, getting an absolute kick out of himself and tipping his head back in laughter that faded into the melody. He was so amused he didn't notice Ichigo until the opening of the car door disrupted the song's rhythm.

Ichigo's first action was turning down the music's volume and his second was offering a defensive explanation. "I had to. It was too loud and we have fussy neighbors. Plus, Uryū's on the verge of bursting a blood vessel."

Grimmjow said nothing as he was too caught-up trying to process how delicious Ichigo looked. Compared to him, he almost felt underdressed in his white V-neck, black jeans and white Nikes. Yet, the outfit Ichigo wore wasn't anything out the ordinary; Khakis, a burgundy short-sleeved henley and burgundy boat shoes. Ichigo smelt good, too. His scent made Grimmjow think of citrus and fresh linens. It completely refreshed the pungent odor lingering after his last joint. His lips curved in a grin, the wait had been worth it. "Took ya long enough," Grimmjow said, then turned the music back up to deluge any would-be conversation.

Being indecisive about his outfit, Ichigo knew he was likely pushing Grimmjow's patience by keeping him waiting, but luckily the thug was smiling and seemingly in a good mood. That, along with a pleasant night out was all he could ask for. Using the seat belt he locked himself in place and tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach. It was always like this when he was with Grimmjow. He was excited they were going out for dinner as their first one-on-one date. He insisted the ardour in his gut was due to just that, but knew in part some anxiety resided there. It intensified the moment he felt the car's tires roll over the bump of steel rails separating their worlds. Because of the bowling alley fiasco with the ex-boyfriend, Grimmjow decided to take Ichigo on his side of town for the night. Ichigo accepted that, despite the fact many memories associated with the drug dealer's side of town left a dull ache around his bullet wound. Ichigo may be a magnet for trouble but if he's made it this far luck is also on his side. Or so he liked to believe.

Upon arriving to the neighborhood bar and grill, Grimmjow decreased the music's volume to concentrate on scoping out a decent parking spot. The lot was packed, as expected on the weekend. He viewed room beside a crookedly parked scarlet-colored sports car trying to take up two spaces. Having little choice, he mumbled curses under his breath while maneuvering beside it. His car fit, but only by sacrificing where the passenger would exit.

Ichigo's quick calculation told him a grown man of his size wasn't fitting through the inches left between the two vehicles. Before he could state the obvious, Grimmjow opened his door and pointed, then sat there waiting for Ichigo to make a move. The red-head eyed the small space around the larger male sitting between him and the way out.

"Climb," Grimmjow directed. His brow quirked and he made it apparent he wasn't going to move.

Ichigo hadn't the slightest idea of Grimmjow's reasoning for this but went along with it. Doing as told, he swung his leg across Grimmjow's body with his back facing the other as he tried to wiggle his way over the thug's lap. He heard Grimmjow faintly chucking behind him then felt a planting grip on his hips.

"Now, twerk somethin' for me." Grimmjow instructed.

Ichigo tensed and held on to the dashboard. Despite the dread already unfolding on his face, he was convinced Grimmjow's previously blaring stereo had corrupted his hearing. Surely this man didn't just ask him to twerk. Hesitantly, Ichigo turned over his shoulder and to his dismay Grimmjow even looked thrilled about the prospect. He didn't want to ruin the thug's mood, but he sure as hell couldn't see himself twerking, either. He would need to be especially high, drunk, horny or a combination of all three to even entertain the idea. Instead, he laughed and brushed the request off as a joke.

"Grimm, you're too funny." Ichigo laughed awkwardly while hurriedly navigating a way off the man's lap. "I can't dance."

Grimmjow laughed along with him, already figuring Ichigo wouldn't do it but wanted to see how he would respond. Although, he had to admit the idea of Ichigo bouncing his ass on his lap made his dick twitch. "Then learn. Don't play like ya don't already know how to throw that ass back."

Heat bloomed across Ichigo's cheeks and he quickly changed the subject. "I'm glad you choose this place. I like eating here." he said in reference to the restaurant.

Grimmjow snorted like he didn't believe him."Yeah, aight. Then ya know this ain't no five-star shit."

Ichigo's brow furrowed in confusion. "What makes ya think I want five-star shit? I'm down for a burger or whatever just like anyone else."

Grimmjow had his doubts. He wouldn't be surprised if Ichigo's family were the type to dine at exclusive restaurants eating soufflés and other fancy foods he'd personally never touch. He was simply giving a warning in advance. His boo was cool and all, but he still had questionable thoughts about those from across the tracks.

Ichigo didn't understand why the choice of restaurant might come across as an issue. When they shared meals in each other's company it was typically takeout. And unless there was something gourmet about the egg rolls he ate when they would order Chinese, he completely missed where Grimmjow could have gotten the impression. As is was apparent their differences were still an issue, Ichigo would be sure to remind Grimmjow he's more down to earth than what was assumed of someone from his background.

From the glass door entrance, they were escorted immediately to a booth by the windows, bypassing those who had been in the lobby area waiting for a table. Normally, more notice than merely walking-in was required for reservation service, but someone with Grimmjow's reputation easily bypassed typical protocol. The men had just slid in the padded seats when a woman approached their table and dropped two menus in front of them.

"Startin' off with drinks?" she asked, talking mainly to Grimmjow since that's who she was staring at.

Grimmjow placed his middle and index fingers on his forehead as if pushing back a headache that was starting to form. "Iced tea, I guess," he said, not once looking in the waitresses' direction.

Like radar Ichigo picked up on the change in Grimmjow's mood and he could tell something wasn't settling right with the man. He ordered raspberry lemonade, and while watching the waitress he also noticed her eyeing Grimmjow like the man owed her money. For several long-passing seconds she didn't take her eyes off him. Ichigo didn't think she heard his order until she finally put pen to paper on the small notepad she held. Writing down their beverages, she narrowed her eyes at the blue-haired male before strutting off.

Evaluating the waitress, she was an attractive woman with wide violet eyes and plum-colored hair tied into pigtails. She wore a form-fitting white collared shirt that hugged her ample chest, the right of which was stuck with a nametag that read 'Cirucci'. Black khaki pants, a black apron wrapped around her petite waist and black, non-slip sneakers completed her uniform. The woman was not only attractive but also shapely. Ichigo couldn't help but wonder if and how she and Grimmjow may have interacted before.

"Thinkin' 'bout me?" The blue-eyed man inquired, his voice cutting through Ichigo's curious thoughts like a hot knife through butter.

"Huh? Well yeah, actually." Ichigo replied after being caught off guard by the conceited question. Grimmjow was so full of himself, though by rights he had every reason to be. The thug sat slouched in the booth with both elbows on the table, his biceps somewhat flexed, fitted to the sleeves of his t-shirt as he held the menu upright. Those penetrating, blue orbs gazed at Ichigo and a smirk pulled slowly at the corners of his tempting lips. Grimmjow was so damn fine Ichigo had to shake off a shiver.

Returning with their drinks, the waitress sat both on cardboard coasters then turned to scowl at Grimmjow. "Ready to order or what?" she asked impatiently.

Ichigo rolled his eyes over at her in disbelief. This woman had a serious attitude problem considering they were the ones waiting on her, not the other way around.

Grimmjow, however, showed little reaction to the waitress's behavior and proceed with his order. "Lemme get the sirloin cooked medium rare and garlic shrimp, I want extra of them jawns, though. And add on a house salad and a side rack of barbecue ribs."

The waitress's head tipped to one side as if her brain was unable to process a communication error. Sighing, she said, "We don't do a side of ribs here. It's the meal with fries and coleslaw or nothin'."

Grimmjow finally looked up at Cirucci through the blue locks brushing his forehead, his mug calm, albeit barely. "Aight, then, I want the meal."

She shook her head like the request was still undoable but wrote it down nonetheless. She then cut her view over to the red-head, waiting for his order.

Ichigo had more than a few choice words for her rude-ass but instead bit his tongue. He wouldn't speak up for the simple fact Grimmjow somehow maintained an even temper. How was the thug so calm and collected? Or a better question would be, why? Before Ichigo engaged his curiosity, he ordered a burger with mushrooms and swiss, no onions, and extra fries to get the waitress on her way. The woman scribbled quickly on her pad then snatched their menus.

Ichigo waited until she was out of hearing range and laid on the questions. "What the hell's up with her? Why does she keep actin' like ya pissed her off?"

A half-amused, half-annoyed grin crooked Grimmjow's mouth and he waved his hand in a gesture of the situation being irrelevant. "She's just some jawn I used to fuck."

Ichigo was slightly taken aback by the nonchalant way he answered, then wondered if Grimmjow's patience with this woman's attitude was due to them having a past relationship. He tried to hide the jealously that felt like a dull pinching in his chest but it manifested through his downcast eyes. He was almost nauseated imagining Cirucci getting fucked the same way he had with all the sensual kissing and touching. Grimmjow also liked pulling hair and it appeared he had a taste for pigtail wearing woman in particular. Ichigo could picture the thug holding the locks in each hand like a pair of reins and rough riding her like a young, bucking horse.

Grimmjow could be slow to catch on, but even he knew Ichigo's expression was begging for some kind of reassurance. It wasn't necessary to be experienced with relationships to notice something so blatant. He hated having to explain himself, especially old shit, but anything to stop Ichigo from looking so sullen. It was ruining his appetite.

"I mean, I hit it once and ain't call 'er so she's prolly still mad." he said and added a shrug. "Been a minute, didn't know she made paper here."

That put Ichigo more at ease. From what he could tell the woman meant nothing to Grimmjow. If he were to assume correctly, the term 'a minute' as used in this instance was in reference to the distant past. It's not difficult to believe some people don't know how to move on. He learned that quite painfully with another woman from Grimmjow's history.

Sooner than expected, the waitress came pushing out of a pair of double doors holding their orders on a tray above her head with her right hand and a stand in her left. She slid the dishes in front of them then stood there with her arms folded under her bust. Ichigo was quite sick of her, especially now that he knew the situation. He was getting ready to speak his mind when Cirucci spoke hers first.

"You really gonna sit up here and act like we're strangers?" she asked, hands dropping to a place on her hips.

Grimmjow, with both fork and knife in hand, ignored her as he was too busy inspecting their food. He started with meticulously sorting the shrimp and testing the consistency of the garlic sauce with his fingers. He worked through each plate before ending with Ichigo's burger, flicking off the top bun and checking under the patty. Both Ichigo and Cirucci watched this confusedly until they realized what he was doing.

The frown already on Cirucci's face deepened. "For real, Grimmjow? You think someone would take time to mess with ya'lls food? Please."

Once he found the state of their meals satisfactory and not tampered with, Grimmjow skewered a shrimp with his fork then popped it in his mouth. "Ain't puttin' nothin' past a bitch these days." he said through chews.

"Guess ya only trust men, right?" Cirucci glanced dismissively at Ichigo then made a face as if his presence made her sick to her stomach. "Who is he, anyway?"

"It's none of ya damn business who the hell I am." Ichigo responded, his fast and feisty reply making Grimmjow smile.

The rumors about Grimmjow and his so-called friend had reached Cirucci's ears. She had refused to believe the gossip, but now the red-haired evidence was talking shit directly in front of her. He was about as attractive as they described, not that she was impressed. Cirucci and Grimmjow hadn't been a couple; she knew his method of operation and didn't care as long as it was of benefit to her reputation. Before the rumors circulated, any woman who attracted the attention of a well-known and attractive drug dealer like Grimmjow gained a certain level of respect, and hatred, from women wishing to be in her shoes. However, since the rumors began instead of building Cirucci's reputation it had the opposite effect and demolished it. She no longer had any desire to save face with the deceitful friends that laughed behind her back. All she wanted now was for Grimmjow to admit what he is.

"This looks like a date to me," Cirucci surmised, "sittin' up here like two love birds. Can't compete with that," she paused, thinking of the right way to phrase her point, "he has the equipment I don't." The waitress giggled immaturely, attempting to taunt then men.

Grimmjow nodded his head, agreeing. "Damn right he does, his ass is phatter than yers." he deadpanned. "Shoulda seen the ripples on them cheeks when I was hittin' it from the back. Fuckin' glorious." Grimmjow dramatically rolled his eyes shut as if the recall was too much for him.

A diner seated behind them, whose ears felt assaulted after overhearing the statement, coughed when shock sent his French onion soup sliding down the wrong pipe. His guest and he weren't the only ones whipping their heads around with looks of disgust as they wanted to see who was engaging in such inappropriate conversation. Ichigo was no less surprised, his jaw dropped which left his mouth hanging open like a fly catcher. He couldn't decide if he were more embarrassed or amused, wishing he could slide under the table and disappear into a black hole while also fighting the urge to split his sides with laughter.

Trying to dodge the verbal jab thrown her way, Cirucci laughed the comment off although failed to hide the fact it made her insecure by reflexively running her hands along the back of her pants as if checking the size of her derrière. "Ya know that's not what I was referring to. Either way ya never called me cus you were too busy laid up with another man. Say it however ya want, still makes ya gay."

The last few wires of restraint that held Grimmjow in check snapped. While he wasn't exactly ready to wave a rainbow flag, he's accepted the fact he has feelings for Ichigo, who happens to be a man. He was sick of everyone trying to tell him who he is, wanting him to wear a label. "If muthafucka's want me to be that, I'll be that. Who gon' fuck wid me?" Grimmjow set his hands out as if to welcome any challengers. "And ya got shit twisted, Cirucci, ain't call cus my dick is allergic to desperate tricks like you." Disinterested in the woman and anything else she had to say, Grimmjow waved her off, telling her, "Skip ya ass along and fetch my check. Tired of ya standin' over me while I'm tryna eat."

Whatever retort Cirucci had clung to the roof of her mouth like peanut butter. She had nothing left to argue and was feeling like her attempt to call-out Grimmjow had backfired. Red-faced and frustrated, she stomped away from the table and disappeared in the back. They didn't think she would return but she did, only to bring their newly printed check and throw it above their table. Grimmjow watched the thin piece of paper, which had "fuck you" typed across it in bold, capital letters, slowly cascade to a land in his coleslaw. He then gave Cirucci a thumbs up and like everything was dandy and continued eating his shrimp.

Ichigo had decided he was definitely more humored than embarrassed, his laughter erupting forth so hard tears formed in his eyes. Once gaining composure, he said, "I was wonderin' when you'd snap."

"Had to wait 'till we got our food, never know what a pissed off muthafucka might do to it." Grimmjow replied, grinning at his mate across the table.

Ichigo tried taking a sip of his lemonade and almost spewed the drink when the urge to laugh overwhelmed him. He could hear whispers and see the side-eyes they were getting from other diners. Although the atmosphere aided the hilarity, the attention also made him feel like a spectacle on the worst kind of reality television.

"We have an audience." Ichigo noted.

"Fuck 'em," Grimmjow said, more interested in whether he should start on his steak or go for the ribs. Having no filter, the thug was well aware the rawness of his words and actions often offended those around him. He hadn't lived life trying to appease others and wasn't about to start. If anyone had a problem they could take it up with him directly. Other than that, it was simply too much trouble for him to give a fuck.

While the audience was somewhat disconcerting, Ichigo adopted the thugs' attitude. He thought Grimmjow handled Cirucci perfectly and if that hadn't ruined their date a few whispers wouldn't either. He was thoroughly enjoying their evening. After laughing himself to tears, how could he not? Unfortunately, as their plates became barer, he became more aware of how the night was nearing a close. They had no other plans and Ichigo considered conjuring up just about anything to make the date last longer.

"Probably not a good idea to order dessert here, huh?" Ichigo asked, already knowing Grimmjow wouldn't dare order more food with Cirucci lurking near the kitchen. He hoped it would coax the thug into going elsewhere so they could spend more time together.

"What ya cravin'?" Grimmjow asked, his smoky voice weaving through Ichigo. He fixed his eyes on the red-head as he used his canines to rip a large chunk of meat off the rib bone, smiling after it disappeared behind his teeth. The masculine sharpness of his jaw flexed as he chewed and after he swallowed, he slowly licked the barbecue sauce off his fingers. "Thirsty as hell, ain't ya?"

Ichigo hadn't realized it but he was holding the table's edge for support. The sensual energy emanating off Grimmjow encompassed him like a thick cloud that made his entire body feel unstable. "Y-yes, I mean, no, or…" articulation escaped him and at that point he wasn't sure what thirsty even meant.

Grimmjow smiled, for the first time noticing the way the inner corners of those orange brows dipped when Ichigo became puzzled. It was cute as hell. Ichigo could make some interesting faces; it made Grimmjow curious to see what other faces he could generate from the man. "Ready?" he asked, tacking on a wink.

Ichigo nodded, shoveling in a few more bites of his meal and left what little remained. Ready for what, exactly? He wasn't sure, but if it involved Grimmjow he was more than willing. Both gathered themselves accordingly and stood to leave, Ichigo reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

"The fuck is that for?" Grimmjow asked, audibly disgruntled and looking at the leather bi-fold like the object offended him.

"I'm payin' for the food I ate?" Perplexed, Ichigo replied to the question with a question. "I got ya too, since-"

"I got it," Grimmjow interjected, "put that shit away." He refused to feel emasculated by letting his other pay his way. Ichigo being a man would only intensify the undermining feeling and never did he want to feel like there were shifts of power in their structure.

Ichigo had his pride as well and at the very least thought it courteous to offer. "Well, the food wasn't bad." he said, hoping a dreaded awkward silence wouldn't ensue.

"Yeah," Grimmjow agreed, mind already elsewhere. He took a napkin from one of the holders and grabbed the pen from the checkbook off a nearby table. He wrote something on the white square then walked off, smirking.

Following him, Ichigo caught a glimpse of the napkin and instantly laughed aloud. Grimmjow had written the word "tip" across it and laid it next to their bill which was paid with the exact amount down to the very cent. The gesture would have been harsh if their waitress wasn't so deserving of the deed. Once outside, the car previously obstructing the passenger door was gone, allowing them to enter their ride without hassle. While on the road, Ichigo suddenly had an idea and could only hope Grimmjow would agree.

"Since we're closer to your place we should crash there." Ichigo suggested. It not only made sense but he wanted the chance to see Grimmjow's apartment. Was his room messy with clothes, rolling papers and other odds scattered everywhere or tidy with everything sitting neatly in a specific spot? He was curious about the look of the room where the man laid his head at night.

Grimmjow considered it for a moment but ever being the cautious type, he had reservations. He didn't like for many people to know where he lived and wasn't fond of bringing company to his dwelling, his boo or otherwise. Loly's dead and as far as he knows there's no target on his back, but that meant nothing in his type of business. He was sure someone would love to catch him off guard. Company meant he would not only have his life to protect but another's as well.

"Nah," Grimmjow said, declining the suggestion and deciding Ichigo had already been through too much to chance it.

"And why not?" Ichigo wanted more than a single word response.

Never one to relay his concerns, "cus, I said so," was the most Grimmjow would say.

"OK, but that's not a reason."

The persistence starting to yank at his nerves, Grimmjow cut his eyes at the red-head. "Keep on wid the naggin' shit."

Ichigo was curious but not currently feeling audacious enough to test the thug's limits. All he wanted was a straight answer, but getting that from Grimmjow was about as easy as extracting teeth. It was frustrating, but not to the point of escalating to an argument so he left the subject alone. Just when the atmosphere was beginning to feel uncomfortable, he heard a laugh.

"Thirsty ass needs a drink," Grimmjow mumbled though chuckles.

"Say what?" Ichigo asked, unsure if the man was speaking to him.

"I said, I know ya want this dick. So, get wet so I can quench ya thirst." Grimmjow's blues flashed mischievously as he glanced at his passenger.

Both confused and sexually aroused by the instruction, a stirring began in Ichigo's lower region and with unspoken questions furring his brow he stared at Grimmjow.

"He think I'm playin'?" Grimmjow asked out loud although he was talking to himself. He looked around at both sides of the road then gradually slowed his driving speed to make a u-turn once spotting a dimly-lit path among a thick cluster of trees. Upon finding his desired spot, he cut the engine and turned to his passenger, looking the man over like they hadn't just left a restaurant and Ichigo would be his first meal of the day.

Ichigo's body reacted to the ravenous look immediately and he could feel himself getting erect. "What are we doing?" he asked for absolute assurance.

"I told ya what we doin'," Grimmjow reached over to the glove compartment where he retrieved a travel sized bottle of lube then dropped the container in Ichigo's lap.

Still slightly addled, Ichigo looked to Grimmjow like he was awaiting further instruction.

To make his point clear, the thug reclined his chair, unzipped his jeans and pulled his semi-hard cock from its confines and began stroking it to a full erection.

Ichigo needed no other coaching. Heat settled in his cheeks as his face along with the rest of his body grew hot. With one hand he pulled the collar of Grimmjow's shirt to meet him half way for a kiss while the other hand removed both his khakis and boxers. Grimmjow groaned when he felt the warmth of Ichigo's tongue slide in to his mouth simultaneously with the man's palm rubbing at the head of his cock. He let Ichigo take over, as he was showing excellent multi-tasking skills. Singled-handedly Ichigo removed the cap on the lube, squeezed the slick product on his fingers then reached around and slipped the first digit past his tightly wound bundle. He moaned into Grimmjow's mouth while his other hand worked the thick member with rhythmic stokes.

"Fuck," Grimmjow murmured after separating their mouths. "ain't just thirsty but parched," He reached around and grabbed Ichigo's ass to firmly cup a cheek. "'Bout done back there?"

Ichigo smiled, a laugh intertwined with a moan fumbling from his lips. He had only just begun. What Grimmjow didn't understand is it's a work in progress, the type you usually don't want to rush. He imagined Grimmjow was used to merely looking at a woman and she'd be wet enough for him to slide in. The man had a similar effect on Ichigo, just the equipment functioned differently. "Almost. You want it nice and wet, right?" he asked, biting his bottom lip as he added another finger.

The thug growled in response and caressed Ichigo's thigh, his fingertips pressing into the supple flesh as he ran his hand down the man's leg. Ichigo could tell Grimmjow was becoming eager and sought to distract him by going in for another kiss. He pecked teasingly at the others lips then reintroduced his tongue to let it search aimlessly but thoroughly. While doing so, he slipped a third finger inside to stretch himself more, humming in delight at imaging what was coming next.

Reaching into the glove compartment again for two condoms, Grimmjow ripped open the rapper and rolled one on then passed Ichigo the other. Stopping everything, Ichigo eyed the square-shaped foil wrapping like the product it contained was alien to him.

As if a realization set in, he felt his pulse in his throat as his heart began to race. "What's this for?" he asked anxiously.

"Ain't 'bout to have nut flyin' all over my seats." Grimmjow stated.

" _Oh..._  Right," Ichigo laughed silently to himself. Of course, the thought of it being for anything else was ludicrous and he too opened and rolled the condom on.

"Lay back," the thug instructed, adjusting the front of Ichigo's seat for more leg room and reclining it back to create a more level surface. He spread and lifted Ichigo's legs and narrowly found room to get between them, only just now realizing how compact his Camaro is after finding himself in this position with Ichigo. "Ready?" he asked after lining up.

Ichigo nodded. "Ready for you to quench my thirst."

Grimmjow dropped his head and laughed. "Betcha don't even know what yer sayin'."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, a blush darkening his already flushed, pink cheeks. Granted, if asked the word for word definition he'd have trouble explaining but he caught on to the general idea and thought that should suffice. "Instead of makin' fun of me, how about you fuck me."

With his almost painfully swollen member catching the heat emanating off Ichigo's entrance, Grimmjow showed no resistance to the demand and willingly complied. The man beneath him shuttered as the tip of his cock stretched and squeezed past the outer ring of nerves as he sank into the hospitable warmth.

"Fuck... Yes, yes, yes," Ichigo yammered and ran his hands along Grimmjow's superbly muscled chest.

His nails biting into Ichigo's calves, Grimmjow rolled his hips in a slow stoke, growling sensually as those walls gripped and caressed him.

"Deeper," Ichigo pleaded, yanking desperately at the man's shirt."I want every inch."

The angle making room limited, Grimmjow found he couldn't accommodate him the way he wanted, Ichigo's legs being too long to open freely in the cramped vehicle being part the issue. "Then turn over," he said, pulling out of the man.

With an indistinct whine at having to change positions when just getting started, Ichigo turned as best he could under the limitations and propped himself on his forearms and knees.

Grimmjow repositioned himself behind Ichigo, again lining up his cock. "Bring it back," he said, his voice just above a gruff whisper. "get this dick,"

Ichigo pushed against the thick probe, breathing a loud sigh as his body engulfed it hungrily and didn't stop until Grimmjow's cock was balls deep. He leaned forward then launched his hips back again with more force and repeated the motions.

"Shit," Grimmjow breathed when the momentum jarred a gratifying wave through his body. He placed a hand on Ichigo's lower back and met his thrusts. The pace was ideal to look down and see that beautiful toned ass with the perfect amount of softness bouncing against him. "Don't make no damn sense," he muttered. It was almost  _too_  perfect.

Ichigo looked back over his shoulder, chestnut colored eyes nearly hidden behind half-massed lids and long eyelashes. "Hmmm?" he questioned in a long, drawn-out moan.

The thug felt his body tense slightly, the sights, sounds and increasing temperature in the sports car made his head swim. He couldn't recall any point in his life when sex felt this good. With a layer of sweat forming on his body, Grimmjow pulled off his shirt and tossed it in the backseat. He grabbed Ichigo's hips with both hands and without warning began fucking him harder, going as deep as he could and engaging the man's prostate with each advance.

"Grimm… please," Ichigo begged, clutching the shoulders of the seat under him. "d-don't stop…"

The thug balled the back of Ichigo's shirt in his fist, holding him firmly as he sped up. Pounding into him faster, the entire car rocked each time Grimmjow slammed into the smaller body.

"Oh god…"Ichigo sobbed, voice broken and breaths coming in short bursts. He reached for his aching length, stroking it lightly. Grimmjow was bringing him so close he barely needed the extra stimulation.

"…Mmm," The thug groaned. He could feel Ichigo was growing hotter and tighter around him and a familiar sensation began pooling in his lower stomach. Bringing his hand up, he gave Ichigo's ass a sharp slap and caused the man to moan more emphatically. "Cum for me," he encouraged, "bust on this dick,"

Ichigo's eyes rolled back and he cried out, his orgasm sweeping through him like an electrical current. Almost simultaneously Grimmjow joined him in bliss, panting as if trying to remember how to breathe. He ran his hands up Ichigo's sweat laced sides as the aftershocks ran their course then he took a moment to rest on the man's back.

Once feeling like he could properly function, Grimmjow opened the car door and let out some of the hot air in what was beginning to feel like a sauna. He disposed of his condom and after Ichigo did the same he climbed back into the driver's seat and tucked his penis away.

"I'ma take twenty," Grimmjow said.

"Twenty what?" Ichigo asked as he found his clothing and re-dressed. When he got no response from the other he looked over to see Grimmjow lolled in the chair with eyes shut. That's when he understood the man wanted twenty minutes to rest. Joining him, Ichigo leaned over on the driver's side, laid his head on Grimmjow's shoulder and stretched his arm across the man's abdomen. "I hope you enjoy your nap." Ichigo whispered, running his fingers along the thug's chest.

Grimmjow grunted decline the moment the warm body draped his. "Blowin' ya breath and layin' all on me like it ain't hot as fuck." he complained and shrugged the red-head off.

Ichigo sucked his teeth and returned to his respective side glowering. He wished the man would learn how to talk to people. Not necessarily people in general; just his boo. Considering the intimate act they just shared, however, Ichigo wouldn't let Grimmjow's asshole tendencies occupy his mind and sought to catch a nap as well. Laying back and closing his eyes, he felt the faintest tickling trail across the palm of his upturned hand before a larger palm settled on his.

"Keep on and I'll give ya a reason to suck yer teeth." Grimmjow said lethargically. "Nnoi was right, skimp and they act up."

Ichigo opened his eyes a sliver to peek at the man taking steady deep breaths with lips slightly parted. He looked so peaceful, like he'd somehow made the threat in his sleep. Then, he looked down at the way Grimmjow reached across to connect their hands and a smile overtook his lips. He couldn't say he approved of the reasoning, but taking into account the thug isn't big on affection the gesture made him happy nonetheless. The man was trying and that was good enough. As not to disturb Grimmjow, slowly and gently Ichigo enclosed his fingers around the other's hand and closed his eyes.

* * *

 

Song: Drake - Worst Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story becomes more plot heavy/focused after this point. If I named chapters, this one would be "Calm before the storm."


	15. Chapter 15

From the comfort of his office, seated in his black, padded chair, Ryūken watched Uryū over a multi-screened surveillance monitor. The strategically placed hidden cameras gave him a clear view of his son going about mundane tasks in the downstairs portion of his home. He observed Uryū was alone. Ichigo had walked out the door some time ago and his son's unorthodox choice in a lover hadn't been by all day. Had Ryūken been inclined, he could trace Nnoitra's exact whereabouts through the tracking device he had placed on the man's Hummer several months back. The task of securing the device had been child's play, almost too easy.

It's no secret the older Ishida is less than courteous to those from across the tracks. He doesn't want them stepping beyond the unofficial city divide, let alone be anywhere on his personal property. Kūkaku knows this, yet hardly questioned why he would request her thugs to his residence, wanting them to personally pick up a package. The ruse should have been obvious and yet the device is still undiscovered. Ryūken would appreciate the degree of trust displayed on Kūkaku's part if it didn't make her such a fool. They've been acquainted for years, possibly too long, which allowed her to cling to a false sense of assurance. He thought this behavior too naive for a drug lord. People in their position would do well to remember a friend is only a friend until a more convenient opportunity arrives.

Kūkaku may not have cared to put a lease on her dogs, but he couldn't allow them to continually run amok unsupervised. Keeping track of Nnoitra was easy enough, Grimmjow was proving more difficult. Though, that didn't surprise him in the least. Ryūken was convinced Grimmjow had been too young at the time to remember, but they shared connecting dots linked to a history he would rather forget. Thoughts about the past gave the man an unrelenting ache in his temporal lobe. A feeling that if left to marinate would only spread and leave him seething. So, for now he would push the past aside and focus on the present.

As expected, Ryūken heard a soft knocking behind his door. "Enter," he said, knowing who was on the other side.

Once granted permission, the man proceeded in to his boss's office to review his assignment. "Should I leave right now? Or would you prefer I wait for Ichigo to return?"

"Go, now." instructed Ryūken. "I require nothing from Ichigo so his presence matters not."

"Understood," the man said then left as quickly as he entered.

Uryū becoming mixed up with Kūkaku's goons not only complicated matters but was beyond comprehension. Ryūken was willing to provide his son with the best of everything, including men if that's what he's into. It was like Uryū preferred driving an old, run-down pickup truck while having the option of a new Ferrari. The younger Ishida only had to play his cards right. Instead, Ryūken found his son choosing the least appealing option if it also meant the most problematic. He wasn't particularly interested in who Uryū choose to bed, he was more interested in how his son's choices reflected the Ishida image. Uryū and his entourage of hoodlums had done well to keep a low profile, until now. Who instigated the fight at the bowling alley was irrelevant, the only undisputable truth being that Uryū was seen among those involved. Ryūken's prediction was the incidents would only get progressively worse, as those people we're like acidic stains determined to corrode his reputation.

This again had him thinking of Nnoitra and his involvement in Uryū's life. That man couldn't be trusted if for no other reason than his background deemed it so. Through experience he wanted his son to learn this lesson, and that would be a day Ryūken eagerly awaited.

0_O_0_O_0

Grimmjow eyed the department store bag hanging from Ichigo's hand and then eyed the man himself, looking him up and down as if he were a suspicious character.

"So," Ichigo said, noticing Grimmjow in his peripheral vision. "wanna talk about it?"

Grimmjow slid his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "'Bout what? Yer fraudulence?"

"I… don't know what you mean. It's not like I lied about what we were doin'. You just got the wrong idea." Ichigo swallowed nervously, hoping his words sounded convincing. Although, he surmised Grimmjow could see right through him.

"Funny, cus I ain't say what made ya a fraud. Conscious got ya fucked up."

"Well, it's not like I begged ya to come. I mean, couldn't even get all my words out before ya hung up then showed up in front the house."

Grimmjow paused briefly, contemplating the validity of Ichigo's observation. "Ok? Why're tellin' me shit I already know? Get ya ass in the car already."

"Fine, whatever," Ichigo said, fighting the smile trying to emerge. He knew Grimmjow realized the truth in his statement and what it implied. In the passenger's side of the Camaro he buckled his seat belt and sat his items on the floor between his feet. Reaching in the bag, he pulled out a hoodie and beamed.

"Over there grinnin' and shit like ya ain't used to nothin'…" Grimmjow grumbled, pulling out the mall parking lot.

"Thanks again for buying my stuff. I'm just glad you accompanied me." Ichigo looked at Grimmjow with his appreciation showcased in a smile.

For an instant Grimmjow was stunned, swearing he could see tiny sparkles dancing in the mocha-colored irises. By force he turned attention back to the road, knowing he would end up causing a collision if he didn't focus. While he wasn't about to admit it aloud, Grimmjow was glad he came as well. Lately, Ichigo has been calling with the most ridiculous reasons to get him to come over more often. Like tonight, when he called and said he needed help running an errand. Considering they ended up shopping in the mall, calling it an errand was a strange word to use. And the task itself was not one in which a person needed assistance. It was essentially Grimmjow following Ichigo around like a loyal dog while the man picked out shirts and he occasionally had his opinion requested on the articles of clothing. The whole ordeal became tiresome to the point Grimmjow snatched everything out of Ichigo's hands and paid for the items himself so they could leave. While the experience wasn't one he'd soon wish to repeat, he was still glad to spend the time together.

Arriving on Ichigo's street, the men noticed a white SUV parked in front of the house. Upon pulling closer, Ichigo could see Uryū standing in the doorway having a discussion with who he liked to call their probation officer. Although neither male had ever been a criminal offender, being supervised and questioned had them feeling otherwise. That was one of the conditions placed on the housemates courtesy of Uryū's father. In the beginning Ichigo thought it a small price to pay for rent-free living with his best friend. However, as it seems the visits have become more frequent, he was beginning to reconsider his living environment. Maybe Grimmjow and he should move in together. Ichigo tried to imagine how that conversation would play out and could see the broken frustrated look bending the lines of Grimmjow's handsome face. Before he could catch himself he laughed out loud.

With a confused and apprehensive frown, Grimmjow looked at his passenger. "You good?" he asked.

Ichigo nodded his head. "It's nothing," Returning to the issue as hand, he watched the two men in conversation at his front door. He wondered what kind of probing questions were being asked and it made him uneasy.

"Mind if we chill here a bit?" Ichigo requested, hoping to avoid an unwanted interrogation.

Grimmjow had just cut the motor. "What for?"

"I'm not dealin' with his shit tonight, the guy Uryū's talkin' to. I wish he'd just fuck off."

Grimmjow visually examined the man of reference. He was stick thin with dark, loose waves of hair that hung low around his collar, his only outstanding feature being his considerable height. He towered over Uryū, his build strikingly similar to Nnoitra's. He wore black slacks, a white collared shirt, black loafers and he had a black suit jacket slung over his shoulder. Under normal circumstances Grimmjow couldn't spare enough fucks to give the guy a second thought, but if his boo had a problem with him that's all he needed to hear.

"What kinda shit he givin' ya?" Grimmjow asked, his eyes narrowing and growing dark.

Ichigo swallowed hard, the velocity in which Grimmjow's demeanor could change from indifferent and laid-back to cold eradicator was startling. He realized he'd chosen the wrong wording and hurried to fix his mistake. "I wish he wouldn't come over, is all." It was more of a story than he cared to tell, but knew it better to explain than allow Grimmjow to assume, which could lead to him doing the worse. "Uryū and his dad, they have trouble communicating so their exchanges are through Shūkurō. He's supposed to be like an intermediary but his real job is to be a pain in the ass, checkin' up on us and questioning everything we do so he can report it back to Uryū's old man."

Grimmjow's murderous visage retreated below the surface. He was slightly annoyed at almost getting involved in what sounded like trivial rich kid problems. If anything he found them funny, the so called troubles of spoiled brats. "Don't want pops checkin' on ya like yer grown but I bet that ass don't be complainin' when he dishin' out them checks."

"That's not fair. How would you like someone sending their henchman to your door whenever it suited them? Hell, Uryū's dad is in my personal business and I'm not even his kid, Shūkurō still asks about you even though I told him to fuck off."

This was certainly news to the thug. He couldn't imagine Ichigo as the type to chat up his friends about his new man. However, that could be the only explanation as to why someone Grimmjow had previously never seen would inquire about him. "The fuck he wanna know?" he asked.

"The same things he asks about Nnoitra, why ya come over, what ya do when here. It's his dad's property and since you're aware we don't pay for anything I guess he has the right to know." Ichigo tried rationalizing the details although in truth the invasion of privacy bothered him. While he was grateful for having a comfortable place to lay his head, he wished he'd known beforehand about the supervision.

"Ain't these the same ones wid badge connects?" asked Grimmjow, recalling a reference made to such after their bowling date.

"I guess, but we didn't tell him anything, I swear. They already knew you two deal drugs. Which isn't surprising, it's like they have eyes and ears everywhere. Anyway," Ichigo sighed, growing tired of the discussion. "I'm sure Shūkurō was sent here because of the fight at the bowling alley. It's probably me he wants to talk to."

Grimmjow wanted to be angry he was only now hearing these details, but it was obvious Ichigo had no context of how relevant the information might be. In Grimmjow's mind he could see a neon red danger sign. His name and craft in a stranger's mouth was abnormal on this side of the tracks unless it involved Narcotics officers. Even then he had few worries because the boss had her own inside connections. This Shūkurō person and whoever he works for have no business knowing anything about him.

"Unhand me!" a peeved voice yelled.

Ichigo and Grimmjow looked towards the commotion in time to see Uryū snatching his hand away from Shūkurō. "I would like to see you be so bold while my boyfriend is present. I'll have to talk with my father about your behavior, as I highly doubt he sent you here to try and flirt with me."

Shūkurō turned to leave, a straight smile across his face. "You'll come around sooner or later." he said as he walked the path to his SUV.

"What the hell was that about?" Ichigo wondered aloud. "See what I mean, a pain in the ass." Ichigo was glad Grimmjow got to see an example to know he wasn't exaggerating.

Before Shūkurō entered his transportation, he stared at the tinted windshield of the Camaro parked behind it. He looked as though he could see Grimmjow though the darkly colored glass and his smile widened.

Grimmjow's expression was the opposite with a frowning pulling his mouth downward. He was able to get a closer look at the tall man who had a long scar spanning from his forehead to the left of brown eyes that seemed to pierce through the glass. He knew the man couldn't see past the tint his but actions were enticing Grimmjow to confront him anyway. Before he could, however, Shūkurō jumped in and was off.

If Ichigo had to conclude anything based on Grimmjow's death glare, it was a good thing Shūkurō left. "Want to go in now?" he asked.

The only thing Grimmjow wanted to do was get to the bottom of who these people were and how they know his trade. "Glasses, who's his pops again?"

Ichigo's head cocked slightly as he thought about how to describe Uryū's father. "It's hard to explain because he's known without being known." He couldn't give a simple answer because Uryū's father wasn't a simple man.

Grimmjow didn't understand, it sounded like a riddle and he wanted straight answers. "Don't talk to me in codes and shit."

"I don't mean to. The Ishida name is well known, in this part of town anyway, but unless you have certain associations…" Ichigo trailed off, his attention shifting to and focusing on the rearview mirror. He watched the image there for several seconds before jumping out the Camaro. Just as he thought, at the end of his street he saw a black vehicle parked with the motor running and headlights off.

Already on edge from taking in new information, Grimmjow whipped his head around to look out the back window. Wanting to know what's gotten Ichigo in a stir, he too just noticed the vehicle. Where he's from, a driver operating a car with the highlights off and motor running often suggested they intended to perform a drive-by shooting. He'd never participated in one himself, deeming the act too cowardly. Nonetheless, he did know the purpose of a drive-by was to make contact with the target then flee as quickly as possible. Just sitting around to eventually be noticed defeated the purpose. So for that reason he dismissed the idea. Still, anyone behaving so strangely was worth taking notice of.

Ichigo lived in his neighborhood long enough to know who drove what and this vehicle didn't belong there. The car gave him a bothersome sense of familiarity. It was convincingly similar to the one he thought tailed them the day he skipped class and had the park outing with Grimmjow. Not that the car was so distinguished or undoubtedly recognizable, it was more of a feeling.

"I'm not trippin', never was." Ichigo said, more for his own conformation than to make a point.

Grimmjow almost didn't respond, but he had no idea what Ichigo was talking about. "Meaning?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the target.

"I said it, the day we went to the park and I mentioned a black car followed us. You said I was trippin' because the only one followin' you was Loly and her car is white." Had the atmosphere been different, Ichigo might have reveled in the moment, thinking, _"told you so,"_ although it wasn't the appropriate time for such.

Much had happened since then and that day in general was overwhelming, for Grimmjow the details of any conversations were obscured. As far as he knew, after Loly went into hiding that was the end of anyone following him. However, he knew her car and knew what to look for. Thinking about it now, back then he was so focused on the familiar, his ability to also look for the unusual may have been clouded. He couldn't recall ever seeing this vehicle, and didn't know what to make of it now. If something was indeed amiss he didn't want Ichigo involved. Not again.

"Shut my door and take ya ass in the house." Grimmjow ordered, starting the Camero's engine.

"Wait, what?" Ichigo looked to Grimmjow then back to the suspicious car. "You're not comin' in?"

As much as Grimmjow wanted to further enjoy Ichigo's company, it seems he had other matters to tend to. "Nah, gotta see 'bout this shit."

Not wanting to be left out, Ichigo returned to the passenger's seat. "Then I'm comin' too." he insisted.

The enthusiasm was nice, in a way, but Ichigo was in over his head. Unable to determine whether the situation was dangerous or not, Grimmjow couldn't propose introducing his boo into that. "Just do like I said and take ya ass inside."

Ichigo shook his head no, determined to be firm in his decision. "Whatever it is I want to help. Besides, until I mentioned it, you didn't even notice the car."

"Look, right now ya ain't doin' shit but gettin' in my way." Grimmjow lost control of his volume despite knowing Ichigo meant no harm. He hated that the man was right and that the truth of the remark left him questioning himself. He was supposed to be the observant one, how could something like being tailed slip past him?

Ichigo was disheartened, but mostly hurt, as it was evident Grimmjow viewed him as a liability. "Fine, do whatever the hell ya want." he said, voice failing to hide the damage Grimmjow's words caused.

The thug sighed, knowing he shouldn't misplace his frustration. It didn't help matters, and although he didn't have time for this, he also didn't want to get home to find himself haunted by the last thing he said and how Ichigo looked depressed afterward. While the red-head was moving to leave, Grimmjow grabbed his arm and pulled the man to his chest. Using the side of a curled index finger, he tilted Ichigo's chin to an angle where he could peck him on the lips.

Ichigo wasn't dense, he knew Grimmjow was trying to divert attention from the fact he's a categorical jerk, and he be damned if it wasn't working. Regardless of the despondent feelings wanting him to resist the man who made him feel like a nuisance, his emotional and physical needs urged him to melt against the thugs warm body, take all he could get while he could get it.

"Listen," Grimmjow said, "yer too fuckin' eager for this shit when ya don't know what's at play. If I tell ya to take yer hard-headed ass in the house it's for a good reason."

When Ichigo parted his lips to reply Grimmjow slipped his tongue in his mouth to silence him. Whatever point was going to be argued he didn't want to hear it. Grimmjow moved his hand to the back of Ichigo's neck, firmly holding him there while he slowly tasted the other's mouth. An unrestricted moan rose from Ichigo's throat and he placed his palm on Grimmjow's pec, rubbing his hand along the firm muscles. When Grimmjow's cock responded he forced a separation before his other head started making decisions for him.

With a nod of his head to the door of the house, "now, go on," Grimmjow said, voice heavy and conflicted.

Despite a faint groan of protest, Ichigo complied. He was only worried about Grimmjow's wellbeing and thought two heads were better than one. However, he would trust Grimmjow's judgment and believe it came from a place of concern. Reluctantly, he removed himself from the car. "Call me at least?"

"I will," Grimmjow agreed, wanting Ichigo to hurry and get someplace safer. He looked for the target of suspicion in the rearview, making sure it didn't move as Ichigo made his way inside. As the car remained stationary, he wondered if Ichigo was correct in his assumption. While cautious of his surroundings, Grimmjow slowly pulled away from the curb with the intention to perform a u-turn to get a better look at this vehicle. Before he could get far he heard a motor revving. With a slight screech the target reversed into a crisp turn around the block, then sped straight ahead down a side street.

"Shit!" Grimmjow exclaimed. Even if he could catch up, how could he be sure someone wasn't trying to provoke him into a trap? He wasn't foolish enough to dive head first into unknown danger. In any case, he knew the safest course of action was getting home, resting up and asking around in the morning. Someone had to have intel on who might be driving that car.

Once crossing the tracks and within walking distance of his residence, the blue haired man parked his Camaro among other cars in a nearby parking garage. On the drive back he hadn't noticed anyone tailing him. In actuality, he didn't notice anyone at all. Other than the occasional prostitute no one was outside, not even the usual corner boys. He imagined everyone was either partying or with their significant other, and thinking about the latter harshly reminded him of who he left behind tonight.

Had events played out like they were supposed to, he would be balls deep in Ichigo this very moment. The thought alone sent a thrill washing over him and left a tingle in its wake. "Fuck," he hissed under his breath, realizing what he was missing. While distracted by his thoughts, Grimmjow almost didn't discern the light but noticeable patting sound against the concrete. It sounded as if a person was walking behind him and his first thought was of being followed. To test the theory, he slowed his pace and the person behind him matched his speed, keeping their distance. Then, abruptly Grimmjow stopped and while listening he could hear the patting sound fall silent with him. That's when he knew he was definitely being followed.

In a breakneck motion, the thug pulled his gun and spun around to face his follower, pistol aimed and ready to fire. "The fuck ya want?" he asked, eyes narrowing in disbelief once seeing the hajib clad woman. The same woman he'd made an exchange with prior and unnerved him because her eyes reminded him so much of his own.

The woman glanced anxiously from side to side, her eyes then settled on Grimmjow's. She moved hesitantly at first, lifting her hands then dropping them back to her side.

Curiosity wanted so badly for him to see this woman's face and yet at the same time he hoped she'd keep it covered and keep it moving. Her presence made him uncomfortable and he felt like someone was trying to catch him slipping. However, he posed as unaffected and repeated himself, "I said, the fuck ya want?"

She closed her eyes for a moment then as if newly determined lifted the niqab covering her from nose down and reveled her face. "I'm here to see you, Grimmjow. I'm here to see my son."

Tension began building in Grimmjow's chest to the point of becoming physically painful. His mother had left a wound with her departure then savagely ripped it back open with her return. It was a sickening feeling and for a moment Grimmjow considered it might be part of some unimaginable mind trick. As steady as he tried to remain he felt his grip on the gun falter. His mother took that opportunity to place her hand tenderly on his and slowly lower the weapon.

While the imagination is vivid, Grimmjow knew this was simply a reality he wasn't ready for. Her hand was warm and trembling. Was she nervous? She ought to be. Most of Grimmjow's ill feelings towards her abandoning him had subsided because he assumed she ultimately met her end by overdosing long ago. What other excuse could she have for disappearing for thirteen years? Not that it mattered because he wasn't interest in what she had to say.

"I know what you're thinking, but I only ask that you hear me out." His mother said as if reading his mind.

Grimmjow released a breath that expelled more ragged than he could control. He would listen to what his mother had to say, but had already decided not to buy whatever shit she was selling.

"Can we go some place more private?" she asked.

Grimmjow looked from one end of the street to the other. All was clear. He found his mother doing the same and had to wonder if she was merely copying his actions or was paranoid. Either way, they couldn't continue to stand out on the street. He contemplated the repercussions of taking her to his apartment, but considered if she had been following him this far she likely already knew where he lived.

"It's this building up here?" she asked, pointing to the complex her son called home.

It was just as Grimmjow thought. To settle his curiosity, he asked, "How'd ya know?"

"Kūkaku," she replied and started walking towards the building.

He believed her, as Kūkaku was the one who insisted he tag along for the exchange where he initially saw her. The boss and he needed to have a discussion very soon.

When Grimmjow opened the door to his apartment he found it dark and quiet, no sign of Nnoitra. He flicked a switch to light the living room and watched his mother make herself comfortable in his leather reclining chair. Looking at her, he noticed she hadn't changed much. She was a small woman but had gained some weight in her face since he'd last saw her. She also wasn't aging terribly for a drug addict.

"What's all this?" he asked, gesturing to her clothing.

"I converted." She said proudly. "I've changed quite a bit."

She could find religion but it took her years to find her son. Needless to say, Grimmjow wasn't impressed. Although slight, some of his anxiety had subsided and he felt less like he was on the verge of a major heart attack. He ran a hand though his hair and sat stiffly in the black love seat across from his mother.

"You look so much like your father." she said, looking at her adult son lovingly. Her gaze shifted down to his hands. "I see you still have his ring."

"One of the few things ya didn't pawn." He replied, sour.

"I know I was a horrible mother, but I never stopped loving you."

Grimmjow threw his hands up in surrender, already prepared to give up. She was talking the exact type of shit he didn't want to hear. "That what ya told yerself after runnin' off, abandonin' me?" the words left his mouth before he could contain them. He liked to believe he was no longer affected by his mother ruining his childhood. However, the more he thought about it, anger started to replace anxiety. He didn't want to admit he was still hurt by what she had done.

A look of saddened worry pulled against the older woman's features. "I didn't abandon you, Grimmjow."

The blue-haired man waved his hand in dismissal.

"Please, hear me out," her voice bordered a plea. "I left to protect you."

"Oh, word?" he said, trying to keep the skepticism in his voice to a minimum. He found her perception of what happened years ago more than bizarre. Grimmjow sat back against the love seat, anticipating the tale of fiction his mother would tell. He had known nothing but lies from her and couldn't imagine this time being any different.

"Grimmjow…" she placed her hand on her chest like just saying his name caused her heartache. "my life is in danger and I think yours is as well."

Grimmjow had to admit her intro was pretty gripping. If nothing else she had the ability to tell an incredible tale.

"You may not remember," she continued, "but years ago I worked for a man on the other side of town."

"Nah," he interjected, "I remember the maid job. Talked 'bout gettin' married and all this bullsh-" Grimmjow stopped himself. While he couldn't say he cared for the person he remembered as a prostituting liar, he was trying his hardest not to disrespect her. She brought him into the world and wanted to show respect for at least that.

"Yes, well, I did something terrible back then. I lead my boss to believe I was in love then stole a lot of his money. I did it for us, so we could leave town and I could provide you with a better life. I wanted to make you happy."

Grimmjow was torn about believing what he's heard thus far. It seemed farfetched in the same token sounded credible. He didn't remember much about the man his mother had worked for, other than he was rich and lived across the tracks with his son. The man and he almost met once when his mother brought her boss around for a proper introduction. Grimmjow had locked himself away in his room shouting obscenities and calling the man everything from fuckface to dirty bastard through his door. Even as a child he had a foul mouth and certainly didn't care to make a great first impression. Grass had hardly begun to sprout over his father's grave and his mother was already trying to replace him. Grimmjow wasn't having it.

He did believe his mother eventually stole from her boss, as thievery wasn't foreign to her. What he was more leery of was her reasoning. "I would'a been happy if ya just stayed clean." he said.

"I did and I have. I know my actions to steal you a better life was a poor decision, but I have in fact been clean since then. I had changed, I promise you."

Grimmjow was shaking his head in disbelief. "What's that promise 'posed to mean? Wanna claim ya did all that, and for what? Ya dipped out on me, came back years later wid that same promise only to dip again. Thirteen years ago I waited and ya never showed." Grimmjow could recall that day too clearly. He sat on the porch of Kūkaku's old home with a single suitcase and Nnoitra as company. They waited from sunup to sundown, until the mosquitoes tried to make their life hell and Nnoitra was forced inside. Grimmjow stayed, waiting, letting those insects turn him into their personal blood bank. He would have stay outside waiting for his mother until morning if Kūkaku hadn't dragged him inside.

Leaving her chair, Grimmjow's mother took the spot next to him on the loveseat. Grabbing his hand, she clasped it between her own and their indistinguishable eyes looked into each other. Grimmjow leaned away. She was a little too close for comfort and they weren't cool like that.

"Honey, I wanted so badly to come get you. I tried, several times." She explained. "It tore me to pieces but I always had to leave you behind. He sent someone after me and I ran, but only because I knew you would be safer with Kūkaku and Yoruichi."

"Sent someone after ya, huh?" Grimmjow didn't know whether to entertain that as the truth or delusions of a formally drug addicted mind. He wouldn't be surprised if she actually had run, but from her guilt, the act of stealing and abandoning her child. Still, he tried to play along with her story. "Guess he ain't play 'bout his money."

His mother shook her head. "It was about more than the money. I couldn't love him the way he loved me and he felt betrayed. He had a son, a pleasant boy, but no one could compare to you. I used to tell him about you every day." As she said that, she reached up to brush away the strands of hair hanging in front of her son's forehead.

Instinctively, Grimmjow jerked away. When he saw how forlorn that made her, he felt like the equivalent of scum. This was becoming too much. They were both sorry, sad people who hardly knew how to cope with their emotional baggage, even after all these years.

"Hey," she squeezed his hand and tried to lighten the mood with a smile. "It wasn't all bad, right? Remember the time you begged me to take you to see that one movie? You feel asleep half-way so when it was over we snuck in for the next showing. You were so cute, giggling in the seat next to me."

Grimmjow had completely forgotten that happened. Now that she mentioned it, his recollection of that day came back to him. He had been laughing because she was pretending to be a ninja and he couldn't believe she managed to sneak them in unseen. Recalling it even now he was struck with a humored smile. Back then, at that moment he thought his mom was the coolest person ever. Over his thoughts he heard sniffling and saw that his mom had begun to cry. He hated tears because he didn't know how to respond to them.

"Ay, I uh…" Grimmjow couldn't think of any words that might be of comfort to her and was becoming more uncomfortable by the second.

"You smiled," she said through sobs.

"Huh?"

"You just smiled. There's nothing I have wanted more than to see my boy smile after all these years. I know I can never apologize or atone for all I've put you through, but I am sorry."

It wouldn't be the first time she turned on the waterworks to try and play for sympathy. This woman had given performances worthy of Academy Awards and he had regrettably fallen for them every time. Although, this time felt different, it felt sincere. Grimmjow couldn't say he would forgive her for all she's done, but he didn't want to dwell in the past, either.

"Yer good," he told her, his way of acknowledging and accepting her apology.

"T-Thank you," The acceptance was been too much for the woman and it was like a dam broke. She dropped her head to her lap and wept uncontrollably.

After that continued for a while, Grimmjow had to wonder if she had made her point or had something more to say. Regardless, he wasn't going to have her crying in his living room all night. "I ain't tryna be a prick, but that's all ya came for? To say sorry?"

"Yes," she said after composing herself, "and no. I wanted to warn you to be careful. Everywhere I go, I think I see them out the corner of my eye. I didn't just leave years ago, I have been running for my life ever since. I don't think he'll stop hunting until he finds me, and I'm afraid he'll use you to corner me."

Grimmjow could only look at her with bewildered pity. Seeing things, thinking someone is after her? She sounded like a paranoid schizophrenic, which would actually explain a lot. "That's why ya were sneakin', followin' me to warn me?"

His mother nodded apprehensively. "I know I should have said something instead of walking behind you wordlessly in the middle of the night."

"Nah, I mean ya drive that black car, right?"

His mother's eyes doubled in size and she looked at Grimmjow like the man was death itself. "You've seen them too?" she suddenly jumped from the couch and turned in circles, looking around the room aimlessly. "He probably knows I'm here." she said as she ran to and swung open the front door before bolting through it.

Grimmjow wasn't sure whether he should stay or go. As far as his mother's mind, he wasn't sure whether that had stayed or gone. He hadn't bargained for this but there were still unanswered questions and he decided to run after her before she got away. His mother hadn't made it far and he spotted her soon after exiting the apartment building.

"Hol' up," Grimmjow called after her, but she didn't slow her pace of speedily moving along the sidewalk while constantly turning and looking over her shoulders. When he was within her range, she finally stopped only to turn around, reach out and wrap her arms around him.

"I'm sorry, Grimmjow. I shouldn't have come but I needed to see you." Grimmjow was unyielding to the embrace, but that didn't stop her from holding him tighter.

Grimmjow didn't understand the feeling but it was like a session of shock therapy that suddenly triggered all the happy memories condemned to the recesses of his mind. He knew there were periods when he had a normal life and was happy. Her actions forced him to forget and her actions also helped him remember. The past wouldn't change no matter how long he stayed bitter, that much he did comprehend, so it was time to move forward. A new door had opened and he was finally able to step through it with fully forgiving his mother. Enclosing the small woman in his arms, he returned the hug. He was good, they were good.

She stood on her tiptoes and gave her son a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad we had this time together. Tell Kūkaku I said thank you."

With that Grimmjow felt like the old wound had finally started to heal. While there were still questions left unanswered he wouldn't worry about them tonight. The pair said nothing more and turned to go their respective ways. Grimmjow hadn't taken three steps when the resonating boom shook him from the inside out. He spun in the general direction of the gun shot while simultaneously dropping to the ground and taking cover behind the nearest parked car. He analyzed his surroundings trying to understand what was going on but from where he crouched he could see nothing. He laid flat on his stomach, the cold, gritty cement pressed through his shirt and seemed to sap the heat right out his body. He didn't let that bother him and used his position on the ground to view a different perspective from under the car. That's when he saw her.

His mother was lying face down on the street and something inside him felt like it had begun to disintegrate. He fervently tried looked around trying to see anyone, anything, but sighting no one. The situation seemed impossible unless his mother inflicted harm upon herself or the shooter vanished. Although it was against his better judgment, Grimmjow crawled to her wanting to assess her status and see if she could be helped. He pulled his mother into his arms, her body limp and unresponsive. The fabric of her jilbab clung to her body, absorbing the blood from the hole in her chest. Grimmjow stuck two fingers to her neck and found a faint pulse, but only long enough to feel it slow to a stop. What had started to disintegrate within him shattered and pierced him like a thousand blades. Less than an hour ago he was estranged from his mother and now her death pained him beyond comprehension.

His mourning was short lived when he felt hard steel pressed to the back of his head. Holding his breath and closing his eyes, Grimmjow prepared to die as his life flew by in a blur before him. The good, the bad, the ugly, and then the clearest image of sparkling brown eyes, freckle stained cheeks and a magnificent smile. This visual was the only one to make him think what a crime to die young. As he waited for what felt like an eternity and nothing happened, he opened his eyes, annoyed. Not that he wanted to die, but if I were going to happen he didn't want to prolong the experience.

"The fuck're ya waitin' for? An invitation?" Grimmjow asked, but the person didn't respond. He saw the shadow looming over him but couldn't make out to whom it belonged. He had pissed off too many people to bother playing a guessing game and figure out who next wanted him snuffed out.

Then, he heard the low growl of a motor, a noise that gradually grew louder. The sound was emitting from a black, Lexus sports car, thee black car, and it crept up beside him like a poisonous opaque mist. A man clad in a black suit stepped from behind the driver's seat. At first Grimmjow thought he were imagining things, but when the man squatted down beside him he got a good look at the guy's face. His stomach flipped when he recognized the brown-haired man as a guard from the mansion of Kūkaku's contact, Ryūken. The steel eased off the back of his head and its wielder stepped around to the front of him. Grimmjow was even less ready when it was Shūkurō who looked down on him from behind the gun, the Ishida's so called mediator.

"Well, ain't this some shit." Grimmjow laughed, not because his predicament was comical but because he was trying to grasp the absurdity. The puzzle was starting to take shape and the name pieced together with haunting apparency.

_ Ryūken Ishida. _

Grimmjow wanted that name to be the last thing he remembered, so if he died that night he would be sure to come back and haunt that bastard until the end of his days. 


	16. Chapter 16

Sliding his thumb across the screen of his phone, Ichigo had to investigate the spam folder to ensure he hadn't accidentally blocked the number. They never spent much time on the phone, but if Grimmjow said he was going to call, Ichigo expected that call. He tried his best not to agonize over last night's strange vehicle encounter, trusting Grimmjow as a man that can take care of himself. It just didn't help that the thug's lifestyle also put him at constant risk. He was on his way downstairs for breakfast and decided if he hadn't heard from Grimmjow by noon, he would make first contact. When Ichigo entered the Kitchen, Nnoitra, who was stretched out in a dinning chair, frowned at him like he was an uninvited guest.

"Don't even, this is my house." Ichigo said, instantly annoyed. Although it was the first time he'd seen the man that day, he heard plenty of him before dawn. After finishing work, Nnoitra arrived at the house at an ungodly hour and didn't hesitate to make his presence known.

"Lay off the drugs, Orange, yer buggin'. Babe, did ya hear me say anything?" Nnoitra asked Uryū, who was standing at the stove scrambling eggs.

"Worse than children." Uryū concluded, not wanting to be involved in their bickering. "When will you two learn how to behave like adults and get along?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Ichigo, "maybe when he learns how to use an inside voice at four in the morning. Woke me up being loud for no damn reason."

Nnoitra scratched at his stomach and yawned as Ichigo spoke, clearly finding the red-head boring. "Hustle like I hustle then yer free to start bitchin'. Ain't like ya needed to get up and go to work."

Ichigo looked at the man like he was unquestionably dense. "How does that matter?"

"Soufflé, I'm straight, I steak my plate."

Ichigo's eyebrow twitched as he stared blankly at Nnoitra. "Come again?"

While the song Type of Way by Rich Homie Quan played in his head, Nnoitra bounced his shoulders to the disclosed beat. He brought his arms up to sway with the rhythm then rolled his hand in a circle to a stop directly in front of Ichigo's face.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Ichigo went to push the hand away only to miss when he retracted the appendage.

"I'm tellin' ya to shut up. Yer not fine like my babe so chill wid runnin' off at the mouth. Don't look good 'nough to act all extra."

"Think I give two fucks if YOU think I'm fine?" Ichigo leaned back in his chair laughing, possibly exaggeratingly so. "Man, that's crazy. Let's not talk about appearance and who, no actually what, you look like."

The loud thud of porcelain hitting wood distracted the men as Uryū dropped a platter of food on the table. "I'll ask that you two act like you have sense or remove yourselves from the kitchen." He pushed the plate full of eggs, bacon and hash browns between them.

"Well damn, just sexy as fuck wid all that attitude." Nnoitra scooped Uryū up with one arm and slid him on to his lap. "Put that energy into tendin' to ya man."

Uryū seemed reluctant as he glanced over at the other male in their presence, but he proceeded with gathering a large forkful of eggs and potatoes and fed it to Nnoitra.

"Hmmm," Nnoitra moaned theatrically and very much sexual. "Now, hit me wid that sweetness."

"Please," said Uryū, opposed. "there is another in our company."

"Just a taste, babe."

To please his persistent partner, Uryū leaned in to place a peck on his lips. As he did, Nnoitra grabbed the back of his head and shoved his tongue in his mouth.

Ichigo had just finished fixing his plate and was already losing his appetite. He knew Nnoitra put on the exhibit in hopes it would encourage him out the kitchen. The smacking and sucking noises didn't help, either. While their lovey-dovey display was gag-worthy, Ichigo refused to be run around his own house and ignored them as best he could.

When Ichigo appeared unbothered by the public affection Nnoitra sucked his teeth and made his plate to go. He stood from the table with Uryū and food in tow and ascended the stairs.

Without the burden of feeling like a third wheel, Ichigo was able to enjoy his breakfast in peace. Once he finished eating and was washing his dishes in the sink, a sudden, wall-shaking banging on the front door caused the plate to slip from his hand. It wasn't just a knock, but an assault on the wood like someone was trying to beat the door off its hinges.

" _Who the hell?"_ Ichigo thought. Although he wondered if it were safe to get near the front door, curiosity didn't stop him from going to look through the peephole. He only caught a glimpse of the blue mane and that was enough. Grimmjow hadn't called, but a visit was even better.

When opening the door and analyzing the man's state, Ichigo could feel the elevation of goose bumps across his skin. "Grimm, what happened to you?" he asked, reaching out to nervously touch him. Grimmjow's shirt was stained heavily with what looked like blood under smears of dirt and debris.

Ignoring the question, Grimmjow pushed past him and entered the house in a searching manner. "Where is he?"

"Where is who?" Utterly lost, Ichigo closed the door behind him.

Felling lightheaded, Grimmjow stabilized himself on the wall while his other hand pressed to his forehead.

Ichigo ran to him trying to understand what was happening and noticed the thick caking of blood in his hair that had dried in dark lines down the side of his face. "Grimm, you're hurt!" he exclaimed and dashed into the kitchen. "You should sit down."

Grimmjow took him up on the offer and eased in to one of the dining chairs. "Could use some Tylenol." he stated, and before he knew it Ichigo was setting a glass of water and two capsules on the table in front of him. He downed the pills and water, hoping it would take effect quickly. Saying he felt horrible would be an understatement. Grimmjow had woken up lying along the gutter. His mother's body, along with everyone else, had disappeared. The only evidence he hadn't hallucinated the entire incident was her blood still on his clothes. His head ached like someone had buried a chainsaw in his skull. The pain throbbed nauseatingly with each heartbeat and his vision had been blurry causing him to fall the first few times trying to stand. On top of that, he was drained from the psychological burden of watching his mother take her last breaths. How he managed to make it across the tracks he was unsure. Granted, he drove but the task itself already seemed like an impossible haze. The storm of information and emotion from the previous night had flooded his brain and Grimmjow felt like he had drowned somewhere along the string of events.

For all he knew, seeing Orange was his first and last bit of good Karma, if he allowed himself to believe in such a thing. Maybe it was the Tylenol gradually easing some of the pain, but since being in Ichigo's company it felt like his rollercoaster ride was steadily calming to a carousel. He found himself wanting to be with his boo, even if their time together amounted to nothing but being in each other's presence. Whether or not he was willing to admit emotionally this support was something he needed, his body had already decided for him.

Ichigo stood to the sink wringing out a wet towel and Grimmjow took up space at the counter next to him, leaning on his elbow. "Over here frownin' like I'm casket ready. Yer too damn cute for that shit."

Ichigo's concern had pulled his features into a worried scowl, but he found his mouth loosening into a smile. As a grown man, cute is the last word he would use to describe himself. Oddly enough, the compliment was palatable to his ego, though still sounded strange coming from the thug.

"Are you OK?" Ichigo inquired, pondering if Grimmjow had something knocked loose in his head when he received the injury.

"I'm good. You plus me, it equal better math. Ya boy a good look, but you my better half."

"Uh huh…" was all Ichigo could say. If the wound on the side of Grimmjow's head wasn't enough indication he had been hit awfully hard, his unusual words of flattering nonsense were. "Let me see," he said while grabbing Grimmjow's chin and turning his head. Ichigo used the towel to clean blood from around the head wound in hopes of getting a better look. While he was in the process of that, Grimmjow stuck his hand up Ichigo's shirt and ran his fingertips along the small of his back. Although Ichigo tried to contain the reaction, the touch sent a noticeable shiver through his body. Grimmjow then maneuvered around to Ichigo's neck where he alternated between kissing and sucking.

"Grimm don't, you're h-hurt." Ichigo stammered when feeling teeth graze his neck. He attempted to push him away, though put no actual effort in trying. When Grimmjow advanced to Ichigo's ear to nibble on the lobe, the red-head's legs grew weak. Ichigo's resistance to the thug was low, but he knew there were more important matters that needed tending. "Hey," Ichigo said sternly but gently, "back up for a sec, I want to see if you're hurt anywhere else. OK?"

Grimmjow's jaw tightened at the authority in Ichigo's tone. "Boo status goin' to yer head. Don't forget who yer talkin' to."

"I haven't forgotten anything. What kind of boo would I be if I didn't want to see if you're alright? It might not be a big deal to you, but when I saw you at the door I just…" Ichigo trailed off, gaze shifting to a spot on the floor. "Can ya just turn your head, please?"

Grimmjow looked down at Ichigo with a drawn brow. It was easy to forget there's someone outside his adoptive family that genuinely cares for his well-being. With no counterargument he turned his head as asked.

Ichigo finished wiping away all the blood on the thugs face and as much as he could around what he imagined was as a deep cut. Grimmjow's hair was so matted with the coagulated, reddish-brown goop that he would need to wash his hair to actually evaluate the damage. Next, Ichigo looked at the stained shirt with much alarm, as it was obvious the blood hadn't come from the head laceration. He lifted the man's shirt slowly, eyes darting back and forth looking for the damage. Annoyed at the pace, Grimmjow grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it on the kitchen floor.

Other than a few scrapes and shallow cuts, Ichigo couldn't find a source to link to the stains. Grimmjow's body was of course as appetizing as ever. Being that the thug was so rugged, if anything the scrapes added to his appeal. That aside, there was still the question of what happened. Whoever bled out like that had to be pretty banged up or worse.

"Grimmjow, can I ask whose blood that is on your shirt?"

Grimmjow rubbed at his temple and closed his eyes, the moment he began to recall his visible and invisible wounds started to ache. The more he considered the question the more perceptibly distressed he became. When he felt Ichigo grab his hand and interlock their fingers he opened his eyes narrowly.

One look at Grimmjow's face made him understand it was a question the man didn't want to delve into. "It's ok, ya know?" Ichigo spoke softly and tenderly squeezed the others hand. "You can trust me. But, if ya can't talk about it right now I understand." He then redirected back to the first concern. "In pain anywhere else?" he asked while placing his other hand caringly on the middle of the thug's chest.

Right then, Grimmjow was absolutely convinced Ichigo was set in his path as good fortune. If he didn't believe in karma before he would believe in it today. If it weren't for those gorgeous browns piercing him deeper than any weapon ever could, he would think he were still laying unconscious in the street and Ichigo was some alluring dream. So much care and compassion displayed in one look, he almost wondered what he'd done to deserve him. He couldn't help running his hand through those silky orange locks and claimed Ichigo's mouth.

Ichigo didn't understand how such a question could warrant that reaction but took the response as the man must be feeling fine. With little reason to be hesitant, he willingly reciprocated; sliding his hands up toned biceps until his arms settled around Grimmjow's shoulders. Grimmjow prodded Ichigo's lips with his tongue and Ichigo allowed the entry, pushing back so both were trying to gain access to the other. Grimmjow craved more contact, and with his hand firmly at Ichigo's back he pressed him tightly against his body like he couldn't get him close enough.

His free hand worked down the back of Ichigo's waistband where it attached to that fit but soft ass. It induced a growl as he squeezed the warm mound and his hips bucked forward causing a rubbing against Ichigo's growing erection. Ichigo whimpered and reached down between them to massaged the fat bulge at Grimmjow's crotch.

Grimmjow parted their lips, his lids heavy with lust and eyes burning into Ichigo. "There ya go, wake that muthafucka so I can tear that ass up."

That sentence was enough to send Ichigo dropping to his knees like the weight of his arousal was too heavy to bear. As if his life depended on it, he hurriedly unzipped Grimmjow's fly and sorted through the layers of denim and cotton until pulling the semi-hard member through the fabric's opening. He sucked it right into his mouth, moaning as Grimmjow's delightful flavor hit and awakened his taste buds. Ichigo used his hand to encourage the shaft and his tongue to massage under the head until it was fully engorged. He then took the dick to the back of his throat to stimulate his gag reflex and increase salivation. With the extra spit he worked his mouth like a pro, alternating between deep throating and sucking hard enough to strip paint off plywood.

Grimmjow thought his knees would buckle and placed one hand on the nearest hard surface for balance. His other hand found itself on the back of Ichigo's head while he looked down and watched his dick slide against those soft, wet lips. Ichigo was unraveling him and he knew he wouldn't make it to the next stage at the current rate. He gripped the man by the hair and signaled him to stop.

"Stand," the thug commanded. As Ichigo did so, he picked him up and sat him atop the kitchen counter, knocking an appliance and several containers to the floor in the process. Grimmjow didn't bother going for buttons or zippers. He hooked his fingers in the fabric at Ichigo's hips and took pants and boxers off in one fell swoop.

Ichigo was shivering with excitement. He didn't care there was the possibility the other men in the house could walk downstairs at any moment and catch them. Their appetite for each other had grown to a point where they couldn't be hindered by such details. Ichigo looked around the kitchen for an alternative lube and spotted the coconut oil on the counter. He reached for the glass jar, the contents, which were usually solid, had liquefied. He poured a reasonable amount in his palm and with legs spread dripped and rubbed the oil across his ass. It was quite messy compared to more conventional lube, but would get the job done.

"Stick it in," said Ichigo before fully considering what left his mouth. Grimmjow is never patient during preparation anyway. He imagined a day like today he would be even less so. Being ignorant to the details encompassing Grimmjow's experience mattered little. If not making him wait would be even minimally beneficial to his man it was a comfort he would extend, even at his own expense.

Grimmjow picked up the same oil, tipped some off into his hand, though spilled the majority of it, and liberally coated his cock. With slight pants, he positioned the tip of his manhood at the slick entrance. Feeling the hot pressure, Ichigo pushed his hand against Grimmjow's stomach, slowing him enough so only the head popped in. Ichigo sucked in a harsh breath and grimaced from the pain. While he knew the initial penetration would hurt, he also knew he would gradually loosen as they continued.

Grimmjow was doing all he could to maintain his stability. Ichigo's smothering heat gripped him to the point his vision swirled. He leaned in, placing a peck on Ichigo's lips and made a trail of soft kisses along the side of his face. Ichigo's ass was throbbing to adjust but he found Grimmjow's tenderness helped ease along the process.

"Ya good?" Grimmjow asked, using every ounce of strength he had to maintain control and not thrust wildly into the tight warmth.

Ichigo nodded, feeling the discomfort fading to pleasure. "Fuck me," he said and wiggled his hips towards the intrusion.

Grimmjow cursed under his breath, he found Ichigo's position too high and lifted him, bring him down until he was fully impaled by his cock which left him half on the counter and half off.

Ichigo closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the ecstasy of being so thoroughly filled. He had never been in this position before and the angle made for exceptionally deep penetration. He hugged Grimmjow's hips with his legs and supported his upper body by leaning his back and arms against the counter. Grimmjow secured him by placing his hands around his waist and started gently stroking those velvet insides.

"Thought ya wanted to tear this ass up." Ichigo said with a prurient smirk.

Grimmjow groaned in return, was Ichigo talking shit? His lips hooked in an excited grin finding that provokingly sexy. He figured he would be considerate and start out slow, giving his boo more time to adjust, but fuck it. Ichigo asked for it…

"Better not beg for mercy." Grimmjow warned, then slid almost all the way out, just to slam back into him.

"F-Fuck!" Ichigo yelped, the pleasure diffusing throughout his body. The sensation multiplied when the thug began steadily pounding into him.

"Talk that shit again," Grimmjow encouraged. In return he got nothing but a collage of lascivious, ear fondling moaning. "That's what I thought." he teased, panting with a smug grin. He wasn't done, wanting to see Ichigo's face as he took him through stages, leaning back and driving into the man with the velocity of a jack hammer.

Ichigo's eyes rolled back and his head dropped with the most euphoric expression, like he was gone off the highest quality of drug. He became weak while his brain was trying to process the overload and placed his hands on Grimmjow's abdomen trying to slow him. In the process, his balance on the counter began to slip. Grimmjow's strong arms ensured his grip on Ichigo, the red-head securing the hold by wrapping his arms around Grimmjow's neck.

Not wanting to lose momentum, Ichigo bounced and rolled his hips, fucking the man supporting him mid-air. Each of his movements had Grimmjow's dick rubbing against the little bundle inside him, sending shocks through his body. He looked down and their eyes met while his enticingly breathy moans tumbled through parted lips.

Grimmjow growled, unable to speak as a heat wave swept over him and pooled at the bottom of his belly. Between their bodies he could feel Ichigo's dick rubbing against his stomach. As of yet, Grimmjow hadn't come into direct contact with the man's penis, so having it basically fuck the indentation at the centermost region of his abdominal muscles was certainly different. The beautifully flustered look on Ichigo's face told Grimmjow the man was getting off on it, just using his body as his own personal pleasure device. That did nothing but push him ever closer to his precipice.

"'Bout to cum?" asked Grimmjow.

Ichigo nodded, "Your cock feels amazing."

Grimmjow hooked an arm under one of Ichigo's legs and met him with powerful thrusts. "Go 'head and get that nut."

Ichigo adhered firmly to the larger man as his lower body tensed and building pressure bloomed. He cried out with his orgasm striking and his semen shot forth painting Grimmjow's chest and six-pack.

When Grimmjow felt that tight ass contract around his cock he thought he would faint. He backed himself against a wall as his vision shook and he pumped Ichigo full of his seed. He held on tight to Ichigo until his legs gave out and he slid down the wall onto the floor.

Face buried at Grimmjow's shoulder, Ichigo kissed the sweat laced neck. "You alright?"

"Yeah, but, uh…" Grimmjow pointed to the semen all over his torso.

"Oh!" Ichigo exclaimed. "Yeah, that. Sorry." He chuckled and slowly detached himself from the other to stand. In the middle of the floor he found his pants and slipped them on. Grabbing paper towels, he used them to help Grimmjow clean off.

"Fuck it, I need a shower," the blue haired man said, as he tucked his penis away and pushed off the floor.

"Same," Ichigo determined. "Let's head upstairs?" he proposed.

"Actually," Intervened another voice. "I hope you don't plan on going anywhere until this mess is cleaned."

Simultaneously, both men turned to the voice just noticing Uryū had entered the kitchen to return the plate from breakfast. The glasses wearer appeared disgusted by the room's disorder. There were bowls and cups scattered across the area, the top was off the coconut oil, some of which looked to have been spilled down the countertop. The toaster was plugged in but dangling along the wall by its cord and a dirty shirt with suspicious looking stains littered the floor.

Uryū saw Grimmjow standing there in only his pants and rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to bother asking what happened in here. Just get it cleaned up."

Grimmjow was suddenly struck with a hearty fit of laughter, which surprised and got the attention of the other two men in the room. His mind felt clearer than ever and he remembered why he initially came to the house.

"Where I'm from, smartass punks like you get dealt wid real quick." The thug stated.

"I'm not where you're from, thank heaven." Uryū scoffed. "You must have forgotten we're in the civilized part of the city."

The corner of Grimmjow's mouth yanked in a passive aggressive smile. "Cus ya'll so much better than us? Hidin' behind gates and sendin' other muthafuckas to handle ya shit."

Confused, the dark-haired male threw a cursory look at Grimmjow then decided to ignore him. He wasn't making sense and he didn't want to entertain further foolishness.

Grimmjow hated himself for not noticing it sooner. All the similarities were there and yet it didn't occur to him that Glasses and that dusty-haired bastard might be related, father and son no less. "Can look stupid all the fuck ya want, but tell Ryūken I'm comin' for 'im."

Uryū looked to Ichigo, who was equally bewildered, before turning attention back to Grimmjow. "What does my father have to do with anything?"

"He popped one of mine so there's a target on his back. Blood for blood, and I'm thinkin' 'bout startin' wid you."

Ichigo stepped in front of Grimmjow and rubbed his shoulders, hoping to pacify him. "I don't know what's goin' on, but ya have to calm down."

"Are you threatening me in my own home?" Uryū laughed, incredulous. "While clearly out of your damn mind, you have got some kind of nerve."

"Who do ya think yer fuckin' wid? Think this's a joke?" Grimmjow pushed Ichigo aside and yanked Uryū up by his collar. "My moms is dead cus of that bastard. He's goin' down and so is anyone who stands in my way."

Uryū snatched the hand from his clothing. "I don't know what kind of medication you need to be on, but you have about five seconds to leave before I call the police."

Ichigo tugged on the thug's arm. "Grimmjow, please," He pleaded and was even prepared to leave with him if it would help deescalate the confrontation.

Uryū fixed his shirt, brushing out the wrinkles where Grimmjow had grabbed him. "My father's wrath is not one you wish to incur. And, if this mom you're referring to is the same drugged-out prostitute that apparently abandoned you as a child, she's definitely not worth it."

Like the restraints on a provoked beast snapped, Grimmjow charged at Uryū, grabbing the smaller man by his neck and slamming him against the wall before Ichigo had a chance to react. Eyes darkened and filled with hatred, Grimmjow's every action was determined to kill the Ryūken lookalike. So fueled by anger, Ichigo's screams were muted vibrations to his ears as he bashed Uryū's head against the kitchen wall repeatedly. The third strike produced an audible crack and the wall tiles broke as the man in his grasp went limp. Grimmjow was just tightening his grip around Uryū's neck for deadly assurance when he was struck with a body tremoring pain and blacked out.

As darkness dwindled, Grimmjow's senses were distorted, vision a fuzzy monochrome complete with a dull hissing in his ears. When his sight finally cleared he realized he was on the floor beneath the most petrifying glare he'd ever laid eyes upon. The features of the man above him were so twisted with fury he appeared more demonic than human. Nnoitra stood over him with a clenched fist and emanating an aura that felt like it could devastate his very soul. As a man not easily shaken, not even by the possibility of death, for the first time in their friendship, Grimmjow was frightened by Nnoitra.

With his single eye drilling a hole through the man on the floor, Nnoitra pulled Grimmjow up by his upper arm. "Bring yer ass," he barked, pushing him to the door out the kitchen.

Grimmjow turned around and shoved him back, temped to deck the man who had hit him so hard he awoke to static noise. He didn't find it worth the effort, however. He glanced over at Ichigo, who was on the floor cradling Uryū in his arms and shakily pressing the screen of his phone. The sight made his blood boil and heart ache all within the same breath, it forced him to turn away. "Fuckin' done wid this shit." he decided and exited the house.

Right behind him, Nnoitra paused only to delegate to Ichigo. "Look after my baby," he said and caught a final glimpse of his lover before reluctantly leaving with Grimmjow.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to point out I'm mostly copying and pasting these chapters as is from how they were from FF.net and have not read through them. The formatting is a little different here (I'm still getting used to this site) so hopefully everything is clear. If anything appears cut off or jumbled please let me know.

Of all the ways to demonstrate such obnoxious insolence, Uryū found this to be one of the most brazen. With his foot tapping impatiently, he stared daggers through the man blocking his path.

Unmoving, the burly guard folded his arms across his chest. "As I said, it's protocol to wait until receiving direct permission from the head of the household."

"You can take your protocol and shove it. I don't have time to deal with the likes of you." Uryū pushed past the man obstructing entry to his destination. He burst through the door of the quiet office and demanded attention by loudly slamming his hands, palm down, on the desk. "What the hell have you done?"

Unaffected by the disruption, Ryūken continued with organizing documents to be placed in a file cabinet. He tapped a pile of papers on his desk to straighten the stack then placed them in a manila folder.

"Father!" Uryū shouted, hating that he was being ignored.

The older Ishida integrated the folder among those in the cabinet, sat back in his desk chair calmly and motioned to his guard standing in the doorway. The guard understood the signal and closed the office door leaving the two men in privacy.

"I've done nothing." said Ryūken.

"Do you really think I'll accept that? You can start by telling me how I got here." Uryū found himself awaking to unusual décor. It had the convenient equipment of a hospital room but the comfort of a bedroom, all decked out in shades of blue and white. It took a sequence of dizzying thoughts to remember how his situation came to be and how his father had remodeled a part of the home into where he had regained consciousness.

"I had your ambulance rerouted here on its way to the hospital. Would you honestly have preferred to have awoken in that place as opposed to familiar surroundings? As you stand before me, it's evident you were well taken care of. Although, you ought to settle down otherwise you will be back in bed. You should be grateful."

"I would really appreciate if you didn't interfere in these matters at all, it's my life. Let's also not pretend you did this for my benefit. Were you afraid someone might hear of my hospitalization and go poking around? Surely unwanted attention for you."

"So," Ryūken leaned forward in his chair to look his son square in the eyes. "If you're aware of my feelings concerning my reputation, why do you insist on tarnishing it?"

Uryū rolled his eyes away from his father's gaze. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then, would you care to explain how you came to be in a predicament where you needed hospitalization in the first place?" Ryūken sat patiently waiting to see how Uryū would respond, if he would lie. He was well aware how his son ended up in his mess, as he had pulled camera feed to show him exactly what took place. Along with other footage he wished he could unsee.

Uryū was no fool to his father's traps. Whether it be fact or fiction, Ryūken would find a way to turn his tale against him. "I think you already know how I got my injury, just as you conveniently seem to know everything else."

Admittedly, Ryūken was somewhat impressed with Uryū's reply. His son was more cunning than he thought, avoiding a lie while dancing around an honest answer. "Is this your way of circumventing the truth?"

Uryū snorted, indignant. "Do you honestly want to discuss truths? You were accused of being involved in someone's death. It's not the first time but I'm sure you'll talk around the accusation as usual."

The older Ishida rested his back against the padded office chair and folded his hands together in his lap. "Sometimes problems must be dealt with permanently. Simple as that."

Uryū took a step back from his father's desk upon the revelation. Noteworthy public officials, respected law enforcement, prosperous businesspersons, mysterious or untimely deaths among these people and his father's involvement whispered through the rumor mill. Surly he always had his own suspicions, but to hear it finally admitted so offhandedly left him aghast. Just for undoubting clarification, he asked, "So, you are saying you've murdered people?"

"Uryū, please. Do you think I built this life for us using charm and promises alone? You are neither blind nor dumb. Certain kinds of people can only be dealt with a specific way." Ryūken looked the young man over and sighed. He was a carbon copy yet opposite in every way. The contradiction had him questioning relation to the only male he ever called son. It was becoming clearer than the prescription of his glasses that Uryū still wasn't fit to take his place if he were to ever face an unfortunate accident. Ryūken sympathized with his child; Uryū inherited his empathy and susceptibility from his mother. "Son, you fraternize with these people while thinking nothing of the consequences. How many times do I need to tell you they're all the same? There's a reason why I forbade you from going across the tracks. Now, do you see what happens when you don't listen?"

"You're wrong." Uryū shook his head in objection. "Stop projecting your hatred on an entire group of people just because she left you all those years ago. Did it ever occur to you what part of town she came from has nothing to do with what she did?  You can't deny she's the reason you hold this ridiculous grudge."

Ryūken's neutral mask crumbled and a frown showed in its place. Little did Uryū know but the  _she_  he referred to was dead; Ryūken confirmed it with his own eyes after they brought back her body. He almost felt a tinge of sympathy after hearing how his men pried her corpse from the arms of her estranged son. He thought severing this woman's life would also sever his emotional ties to the betrayal. Sadly, he was still waiting on closure.

She had been the first woman Ryūken loved since Uryū's mother. She entered his life as hired help, but despite their difference in background, the fact she was from the other side of the tracks and struggled with substance abuse, he accepted her. He had helped her turn around her life and wanted to provide better for her and her son. It was his second chance at love, Uryū would have an older brother and they could all live the dream. So smitten by the blue-eyed woman he didn't realize she was gradually stealing his money until she, along with one-fourth of his fortune, vanished as a literal thief in the night. It was and still is a touchy subject and Uryū was well aware he was taking a cheap shot. However, the older Ishida refused to be bested by his own offspring.

"That boyfriend of yours, do you know what he did after you were attacked?" Ryūken asked but waited for no answer. "He scurried off with the same man who so violently assaulted you, more concerned with him and his own. Didn't even care to stick around and see if you were alright." Ryūken forcefully fought off a smile. The scene couldn't have played out better if he had written the script himself.

The disclosure caught Uryū off guard and he felt a strong heartbeat pound through his chest. His father was a liar, he had to be. "No, that's… that's not true. Nnoitra would never-"

"Abandon you? That's exactly what he did. When the paramedics arrived, Ichigo was the only one there with your unconscious body. You can ask them yourself if you don't believe me. Would anyone who truly cared for you have left you while you were in such a pathetic state? As you now blatantly see, those people only care about their own. Our differences are too vast and in the long run a relationship will never work."

In silence, Uryū listened to his father. His eyes shifted downward where he stared blankly at the floor.

Ryūken overlooked his son's sullen expression and continued on. "As for the person that attacked you, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. How would you propose we deal with that problem?"

Addled, it took Uryū time to respond and he shook his head as if to snap himself to. "I'll have to put a restraining order on him I guess."

The idea made Ryūken chuckle. "Do you honestly believe that would be enough? Who's to say next time he won't kill you? No point in wasting space trying to confine a rabid dog when you can euthanize it."

Uryū's eyes doubled at the implication. "If you're suggesting we deal with him permanently, I cannot condone that."

Ryūken opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a file. He spread the contents on the surface and adjusted his glasses to began reading them over. "What you do or don't condone is of no importance here."

Uryū could see the numerous documents contained pictures and information on Grimmjow and a black-haired woman he wasn't familiar with. "What are you… I won't stand by idly if you do this!"

Ryūken's brows along with a corner of his mouth shifted upward in amusement. "Are you threatening me, child? Do you plan to tell the man that tried to kill you that I intend to kill him? Laughable. Or, go to the police? How far do you think you'll get there? Earlier I said you were neither blind nor dumb. I'm going to have to revoke my statement. Your compassion will be the death of you."

Gritting his teeth with frustration, Uryū turned away from his father and stormed out the office.

_X_x_X_x_X_x_X_

He felt the bass thumping through his chest before deciphering the melody in his ears. Slowly Grimmjow opened his eyes until his vision cleared to see a plain, stucco ceiling. He shifted on the couch where he laid and looked around the room, the first thing to come into view were a pair of black jeggings attached to curvaceous, gyrating hips.

" _She give me IQ that mean she give me head_ ," they sung, swinging from left to right and popping their ass to Will. – Fellin' Myself.

"Hell nah," the thug groaned. "yer too damn old to be singin' and shakin' yer ass to that shit."

Yoruichi turned over her shoulder to see the man speaking to her. "Old? Boy, bye. Don't think because you're laid up like an invalid I won't go Chun-Li on your ass. I'm glad you're finally awake, though."

"That loud ass music ain't give me no choice." Grimmjow sat up on the couch gradually, a prominent ache from neck up.

"You've been out over a day and I needed to get this inventory done." Picking up a large box, Yoruichi parked it on her shoulder. "I'll let Kūkaku know you're up." she said as she left the room.

Grimmjow scrubbed his face with his hands to rub away the remnants of sleep. He had slept so long not only because he needed it, but he wished to avoid the subject of everything that took place the last couple of days. He couldn't stop the sounds and images from assaulting his mind but at least he wouldn't have to talk about them. Although, now that he has been given the chance to rest and unscramble his brain he was wondering how big a mistake it was not going to Kūkaku from the start. Before he could wrap his head around his problems, Kūkaku was standing in the doorway.

"If you hadn't showed up here already looking like shit I'd beat your ass." she said as she grabbed a foldable chair and slammed it down across from Grimmjow. She reached for the blue-haired man, placed her hand under his chin, turning his face as it suited her. "Redness is gone but there's still some swelling. As for that gash, Yoruichi stitched it up while you were out. Be sure to thank her."

"Auntie K," Grimmjow began, bypassing her speech.

Kūkaku stiffened visibly at the moniker. She could recall only a handful of times Grimmjow called her that when he was younger, usually after something had distressed him. It's been years and he's stuck strictly to refereeing to her as boss. She was ready to lecture him but recognized now wasn't the time and instead sat quietly while Grimmjow spoke. Kūkaku listened as he explained recent events, starting with the surprise meeting he had with his mother and her subsequent murder. He also explained how it was Ryūken's men that carried out the hit and Shūkurō pistol whipped him which resulted in the head wound. Although to Grimmjow's confusion, Kūkaku didn't look the least bit surprised by any of the information.

The dark-haired woman ran a hand through her bang, pushing it out her face as she breathed a discontented sigh. "So her demons finally caught up with her, eh?"

"Yer sayin' ya knew all this time he was after my moms?" Grimmjow asked.

"I only knew they had a falling out and she had a tendency to run from her problems. Plus, she entrusted me to look after you so I tried not to get involved. She contacted me occasionally over the years but I never told you because I knew how you felt about her leaving."

"Right, right." Grimmjow replied quickly, wanting to avoid delving too deep into any emotional aspects. "My question though, is when we gon' handle that muthafucka?"

"We're not going to handle anything, Grimmjow. I obviously don't agree with what Ryūken did, but it was her choice to cross him and she ultimately paid the price for it. You know that's how our way of life works."

Spurned by her response, Grimmjow sat quietly as he tried to understand her position. He wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say, but it definitely wasn't that. "She was my kin so I'll do what I gotta do. We ain't blood so I understand ya can't get involved."

Kūkaku's eyes narrowed and for a moment she only glared. "Grimmjow," she said and a half smile played at her lips. "Tell me, what side of your head hurts the most?"

The blue-haired man lifted his hand to point and as soon as he had Kūkaku decked him across the opposite side. Grimmjow's head swung from the force of the hit and his vision shook. Before he could ask for her reason, Kūkaku was in his face with her finger at his chest.

"Do you really think I give a fuck about our blood ties? I put you under my roof, fed and clothed your ass all those years and never gave a fuck about relation. You said Ryūken had the opportunity to kill you but didn't. If he would've come for you then there would be no question about my actions because we're family. You're alive, dipshit, and I want it to stay that way. So, you better not do anything stupid, or I'll kill you my damn self." Kūkaku huffed, finished with her rant but still frustrated with the man who set her off.

Grimmjow stared at her wide-eyed during the scolding. He realized his word choices had disrespected the woman who raised him when his own mother couldn't. He deserved the hit and as much as he wanted to complain, he didn't.

"Now," Kūkaku said, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest. "what's this shit I heard about you and Nnoitra fist fighting?"

Grimmjow balked at the implication. There wasn't much of a fight, it was one-sided and he got knocked the fuck out. His best friend had put hands on him over some stuck-up punk who didn't know when to stop running his mouth. Yeah, there was the detail he was trying to kill Uryū, but damn, whatever happened to the bro code? Nnoitra had to be beyond whipped, homeboy was definitely too far gone. That issue, however, was less troubling than what else he needed to tell Kūkaku.

Grimmjow scratched at the nape of his neck, he was not looking forward to this conversation. "Aight, look, here's the deal. It was over Nnoi's dude, the four-eyed bitch. He pissed me off so I handled 'im."

Kūkaku sucked her teeth. "What have I told you about that temper? Did you kill him?"

"Hell if I know." he replied, unsure, though secretly hoping he had. "Thing is, it happened after the shit wid my moms. Ain't help matters that Glasses is Ryūken's kid and looks just like the fuckin' bastard."

Kūkaku held her hand up to halt Grimmjow. "Hold on, am I to understand this Glasses person Nnoitra is dating is Ryūken's son?"

The boss didn't delve into their personal life as long as it didn't cause her problems or interfere with work. Grimmjow knew she would be as surprised as he was to uncover the connection. "Damn right, he's the reason Nnoi's so fuckin' whipped."

Kūkaku started vacantly at Grimmjow. "…Uryū Ishida, right? Are you positive? And you're saying you physically attacked him to the point you could've killed him?"

Grimmjow kept nodding his head, it was a yes for each question. If Kūkaku was mad before he knew she was about to be furious. He steeled himself, expecting a beat down. However, Kūkaku didn't look like she was ready to dole out an ass whooping, she looked more like she was ready to faint. The woman covered the lower part of her face with her hands and parked her elbows on her knees with head down in thought.

"Boss? Ya… good?" asked Grimmjow. Unsure what he should say or do for Kūkaku.

Unexpectedly Kūkaku laughed, the sound bordering maniacal. She sat back and stared at Grimmjow, wearing a smile that was frightening incongruent with the demented look in her eyes. "Boy, you really fucked up."

_w_W_w_X_w_W_w_

"How can someone so magnificent still be boring? He's also intimidating. The way he looks at me scares me half to death but makes my heart beat out my chest. It kills me on a spiritual level, ya know?"

Ichigo mechanically nodded his head, positive that's all he's been doing the last ten minutes.

"Damnit," Keigo whined, and dropped his head against the steering wheel. "Why does Professor Kuchiki have to be so beautiful? The way I feel is normal, right? A man isn't typically that pretty, in a masculine sort of way. I'm really starting to think I might be gay." The brown-haired man clasped his hand over his mouth like the words that left it were forbidden.

Ichigo again nodded.

"WHAT!?" Keigo shouted. "I-I'm q-queer? I've always had homo tendencies, but I never thought it meant I'm a booty bandit. Wow, this is all so sudden. I want to trust your judgment. Since you're an anal assassin you should be able to spot your kind, right? So then, hypothetical question, if Byakuya and I hooked up which of us would be the pillow biter?"

The red-head again nodded.

"Ichi, are you listening? This is important stuff here, man. My backdoor virginity might be at stake." Keigo reached over, grabbed and shook the man next to him.

"Huh?" Ichigo breathed, having heard nothing the brown-haired male said. He had too much on his mind. Trying to continue what resembled a normal life was more difficult than he thought. He had to attend class, otherwise he would flunk and have to repeat his most hated course. Uryū was in no position to help him and since Keigo and he were in the same dreadful lecture, it made sense to work together. Although, it seems he's been listening and gradually tuning out the man's whining instead of actually doing anything productive. They hadn't even made it inside the house yet.

"Dude, please," Keigo pleaded. "I need your advice, don't leave me hanging."

Just as Ichigo was getting ready to ask him what he was whining talking about now, the white Hummer parking behind them ranked higher priority for his attention. He watched Nnoitra leave the truck and head for the front door of the house, where he stood knocking several minutes.

"Ichi, I think that guy wants someone to come to the door." Keigo said.

"Thank you, captain friggin' obvious." Ichigo replied. He stepped from Keigo's ride and called to the dark-haired man.

Nnoitra turned around and once seeing Ichigo, he joined him near the car. Ichigo had to contain his stunned reaction once seeing him up close. His appearance was disconcerting. Hair disheveled, t-shirt wrinkled, bandana covering his eye sloppily folded and if Ichigo could base anything on the dark circle around his visible eye, the man hadn't seen a wink of sleep in days.

Nnoitra looked from Ichigo to Keigo, who was gawking at him from the car, then back to Ichigo. "What's the scoop?"

"On Uryū? He's much better, but still recovering." Ichigo said

"Lemme in so I can see 'im? Been hittin' up his cell and can't get no answer."

Ichigo nervously begin fidgeting with his shirt. "Sorry, but I can't do that."

"What'd ya mean, ya can't? Is he still at the jawn? Cus I called and they said he wasn't there."

"You mean the hospital? No, Uryū is with family."

Nnoitra released a drawn-out and harsh sigh. "Tell 'im to hit me up so I know he's aight. Or turn his phone on or somethin'. Shit, just take my digits and keep me posted."

Ichigo reluctantly pulled out his cell and saved the man's number. "OK, I'll update you when I can."

"Word. Good lookin' out, fam." Nnoitra patted Ichigo on the shoulder and with the most morose expression started to walk towards his Hummer.

Ichigo opened his mouth to speak but couldn't muster words. He had wanted to ask about Grimmjow but found it too difficult to do so after that conversation. The most he could do was watch Nnoitra leave and feel ten times worse than when the day began.

Keigo looked confusedly at the red-head. "Ichi, I thought you said we couldn't be too loud when we went inside because Uryū is resting."

"Yeah, Keigo, I know what I said." Keigo's reminder succeeded in making Ichigo feel like the most despicable form of life to disgrace the earth. He wasn't sure how, but he had managed to stand before Nnoitra and lie with a straight face, just as Uryū had asked him to. He might feel slightly less guilty if Nnoitra hadn't been so pleasant, even referring to him as ‘fam’. Ichigo couldn't figure out why Uryū was avoiding the man and when he tried to ask the reason he was told he wouldn't understand. As best friends they told each other almost everything, even if it were followed with judgments and arguments, because that's how their friendship functioned.

Ichigo was beginning to feel like his perception of normalcy was crumbling around him like the walls of a dilapidated structure. It pained him to know he predicted an incident like this might occur but could do little to prevent it. He wanted to believe each party was accountable for their own words and actions, although he continually wondered the outcome if he had tried just a little harder to step in. It was a difficult time for all of them. Uryū is obviously traumatized after being attacked and Ichigo could see the fraught sketched all over Nnoitra's face. He didn't know Grimmjow's state since he hadn't heard from him since the incident and was ashamed to say he hadn't attempted to contact him, either. He had been busy, not so busy he couldn't spare a second to pick up a phone, but busy enough to use it as justification. It was the only plausible excuse to cloak his real issue: fear.

Ichigo looked at his phone and scrolled back and forth past Grimmjow's number, as he's been doing the last few days. He still couldn't muster the nerve to call him. In his mind he had ideated their possible conversations and each one would conclude with Grimmjow ending their relationship. Even though he hadn't done anything it wouldn't be shocking if Grimmjow wanted to cut ties because of the close affiliation with Uryū. He felt hopeless. Ichigo flopped down next to Keigo who was still seated in the car. He was feeling like he might regret this, but, "Keigo, can I ask a question?"

"Lay it on me, broski." replied Keigo.

"Say you had two people you care for, a close friend and romantic partner, but they had a falling out with each other. What would you do?"

"Oh? So, Ichigo Kurosaki, Mr. cool, calm and collected himself is asking little ol' me for advice?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Keigo, don't make me regret the fact that we're friends."

"Oh come on, Ichi, I'm only joking. Seriously, that depends. Who's at fault and what did they do?"

"Let's say fault can't be pinned on either and both are equally responsible."

Keigo scratched his head, unsure how to answer. "Man, that sounds complex. I can't really say, but I do know if both people are important to me I would make sure they know I'm concerned and help them work through the problem."

As Ichigo considered those words, it made the dilemma appear more hopeless. He was already convinced attaining a resolution was near impossible. It wasn't as if Uryū and Grimmjow had a great relationship to begin with. "What if it's a problem that can't be fixed?"

"Even if those two couldn't get along I'd try to remain a neutral party. Just because they can't resolve their issues it doesn't mean I should lose either one of them. I might lean more towards the romantic interest if they're hot. I try to stick by my bros, but a fine piece of ass can make all the difference in life. Like, I'm not saying I would ditch you if Byakuya asked to hangout, but…"

About there is where Ichigo stopped listening. That actually didn't address his main issue at all, but Keigo did make a good point.

Right now, Uryū needed him, even if his friend wouldn't explicitly say it. However, that didn't mean Ichigo choose sides, as he cared for both him and Grimmjow and was stuck somewhere in the middle. He wasn't sure how to give the thug breathing room while also relaying he's still in his corner, but if he only did the former he would be waving goodbye to his relationship. He had to figure this out and patch things somehow. If Ichigo could help it, he was not about to lose his man.

_W_w_W_V_W_w_W_

The idea of having to relocate so suddenly was off-putting but understandable. Other than to acquire a few personal belongings, Kūkaku advised against spending any time at or near the apartment. She set up one of her places for Grimmjow and Nnoitra while figuring out how to sort through the mess with Ryūken. She had no idea if he was planning anything, but it was better to be safe than have to attend a funeral, especially if it's your own.

Grimmjow had made his trip to the apartment and filled two large duffle bags with clothes and other odds, anything else could be replaced. He was on his way to the spot Kūkaku put together, its location bordering the outskirts of the city. It was still his hood but a section considered more respectable, although not clean from corruption by any means. Having completed a fair share of business in this area, he was comfortably familiar with the streets and easily navigated his way to a nearby park. He appreciated the fact he could spend hours there and no one would bother him. He was lesser known in the area and anyone who didn't need his services minded their own business. It was an out-of-the-way drive when coming from what was now his old apartment, so he usually settled for the old, run-down park he had taken Ichigo.

"Fuck Orange…" Grimmjow grumbled, hating how that name snuck up on him and created images of a person he was refusing to think about.

He hadn't heard from Ichigo in days, which should be a good thing, right? Grimmjow imagined the red-head was salty over what he'd done to the glasses wear, not that he cared, of course. He had already made the decision to be done with those people from across the tracks. They were arrogant to the point of being reckless. It would be a winter's blizzard in summer before he'd let someone disrespect him by talking crazy. He also had to wonder how Uryū came to possess such details about his mother. If he knew Ichigo was going to run his mouth he would've never told him the personal story. Or better yet, he should have simply killed him. Out of sight, out of mind. He could have effortlessly done the deed back when he was choking him out in the park, back before he caught feelings.

The realization almost had Grimmjow swerving into a lamp post, he gripped the steering wheel and tried to regain control of his car and himself. By remaining distanced Ichigo made his allegiance known. As a result, this person should already be purged from his memory and yet Grimmjow couldn't get him off his mind. It didn't help there was this strange, unfamiliar pain in a deep unreachable place every time that name and face plagued him. He knows he has feelings for Ichigo, but to be  _in_  your feelings on some deep emotional shit was something else all together.

Grimmjow cleared his throat, like it would also clear his mind. He was mistaken, obviously. He caught bodies, not feelings. Telling himself the only emotion he felt was anger and it was driving his thoughts to bizarre places. His actual concern was Nnoitra. He hadn't seen him since they both ended up at Antiquated to see Kūkaku. Grimmjow choose to stay and crash on a couch in one of the businesses storage rooms while Nnoitra went off to do his own thing. They would run into each other at the new residence. He didn't know if they were going to be non-confrontational or would have to settle matters with a brawl. Grimmjow wanted more time to get his mind right before any possible altercation.

Arriving at the park, Grimmjow's Camaro eased into the lot as he spotted the only other vehicle, a large white hummer. Had he been in the right mood he would laugh, it appeared Nnoitra had the same idea he did. He could easily pull off and avoid him longer, but that was a punk move and Grimmjow wanted no parts of the behavior. The blue-haired man parked his car and then got out to park himself on the hood of it. It was slightly chilly, so he stuck his hands in the pockets of the gray sweatpants he wore. Out the corner of his eyes he could see a long, thin shadow easing up on him. When he turned his head, Nnoitra was standing there with arms outstretched.

At least it wasn't a fighting stance, although Grimmjow couldn't tell if this was supposed to be some kind of joke. He couldn't spot an ounce of humor in Nnoitra's expression. In fact, the man looked somber, quite miserably so.

"Gon' wid that shit, bruh. I ain't 'bout to hug ya." said Grimmjow.

"Ain't nobody tryna get no hug, fool. Get ya swing in so we can move past this shit."

Now Grimmjow understood what Nnoitra was doing. He wasn't sure if the man had blindsided him or he was blinded by fury, either way he didn't see the hit coming and didn't get a chance to react. Nnoitra understood him well enough to know he would hold a grudge because he never got the chance to stand on equal footing during the fight. If offered the free swing several days ago he might have taken him up on the offer.

Grimmjow pulled a pre-rolled, special blend of herbs from his pocket and sat it on his lip. "I'm good," he said, lighting up and taking a pull.

Nnoitra shrugged and dropped his arms to his side. "We'll see 'bout that after ya hear what I gotta say." He paused briefly but carried on. "I caught the end of what Uryū said. I know he gotta big mouth but I'm the one to blame cus I told 'im 'bout ya moms."

Grimmjow stared at Nnoitra, his mouth falling open until the joint there fell from his lips and landed in the dirt. The news of such betrayal left him dumbstruck and feeling like Nnoitra had punched him across the face a second time. It would be accurate to say he found himself more hurt than angry. "My dude. If we ain't have such a long history I'd murk yer ass widout thinkin' twice."

"I know… I just thought ya'll would meld on some relatable type shit. His mom's dead and we both thought ya moms was practically dead, no disrespect. Auntie K told me what happened, why we can't stay at the apartments anymore. Sorry it went down that way."

"Save the pity for the next muthafucka. We 'posed to be boys, ya don't just go runnin' yer trap to some bitch."

"Uryū ain't just some bitch, tho."

"If I said he a bitch, he a bitch. Him, his pops, and the rest of 'em, bitch-ass pussies."

"Look, man, I ain't come over 'ere to argue. Yer like my brother and have always been my fam. I know I ain't have the right to say nothin', but I wanted ya'll to get along cus Uryū's an important part of my life. I'm on some, ain't never felt this way 'bout anybody, type shit."

"Yer killin' me wid this sentimental bullshit." Grimmjow sighed, hanging his head in contemplation. Despite being upset with Nnoitra, he accepted the fact the man was determined to protect what was significant to him. He didn't approve of the reasons, but figured a pussy whipped fool like him didn't know any different. "Better be important. One hit K.O.'ed my ass over dude."

"Damn right." Nnoitra said, surely. "Can't say what else I mighta done if Orange ain't step in."

That was news to Grimmjow and he looked at Nnoitra, astonished. "Orange stepped in? When?"

"After I laid yer ass out he was standin' there in front of me. Had his hands up like he was ready to box or some shit. I almost fucked his shit up, too."

"My boo-" Grimmjow stopped himself immediately, almost forgetting he had made the decision to be done with Ichigo. Although, he had to wonder why the man had defended him after witnessing what he'd done to Uryū. That in turn begged the question, if Ichigo cared that much why hadn't he called?

"Grimm, on some real talk, I think Orange is a keeper. I bet ya woulda done the same shit I did if I came for ya boo like ya did my babe."

Grimmjow remained silent. He didn't need Nnoitra giving Ichigo his stamp of approval and he didn't need him laying out that scenario.

Nnoitra sighed, rubbing at his tired eye. "Aight man, I'm 'bout to head to the new spot." He held his fist out. "We good, bruh?"

To say Grimmjow didn't view Nnoitra differently would be a lie. Regardless of the good intentions his best friend still revealed information that was not his to disclose. Compared to all his other problems, however, this currently seemed like the most fixable. So, as much as Grimmjow wanted to resent the man, Nnoitra was and will be the closest he'd ever have to a brother. He met the fist with his own. "We good,"

With that, Nnoitra left. Grimmjow returned to his Camaro, getting ready to leave as well then realized he had too much on his mind to just sit in a house staring at walls. He opted to instead let his radio play and returned to the hood of his car. The sun had set hours ago over the city and left a dark, starless sky as a blank canvas for a half-circle moon. The thug gazed up into the open emptiness of space while listening to Swedish House Mafia – Don't You Worry Child.

Many memories and images presented themselves. Maybe it was the song, but Grimmjow began thinking about his father and how he had passed down his sapphire ring before he died. At the time Grimmjow's hands were too small and the jewelry would slip off all his fingers. He kept the keepsake safely hidden, mainly from his mother, until he had grown enough to wear it. He held his hand out in front of his face realizing how many years it's been since then. His hands were much larger now, the same size as his father's if he remembered correctly, allowing the ring's fit to be so exact, like it had been made specifically for him. It was the same as how Ichigo's fingers intertwined so perfectly within his own like they were meant to be there.

It hadn't taken long for Ichigo to again creep in and consumed his thoughts. Thanks to Nnoitra and his comparative nonsense, he was also imagining how he would have reacted if roles were reversed and he saw Nnoitra attacking Ichigo. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind. There would've been no words; his fists would have done the talking. After all the shit he said about Nnoitra, calling him whipped and every other associated name, he would have done the exact same thing.

The more time spent with a person the more emotions get twisted into the mix. He knew that's how relationships generally progressed but until now he hadn't experienced it firsthand. It seemed like bullshit, although he should have realized something was amiss the last time they had sex. While he couldn't believe he was actually admitting this, Grimmjow was more thankful than ever Ichigo is a man. Otherwise, he would have definitely made a baby. Not only did a condom slip his mind but he planted his seeds like he was trying to fertilize the crops. It was the first time he ever slipped up. If he had been so careless in the past he would have fathered enough children to fill a classroom by now.

Of all the things to happen as of late, the main topic of interest on his mind was Ichigo. Seriously, why hadn't he called or at least sent a text? It was pissing him off beyond the boundaries of his emotional understanding. In Grimmjow's book Ichigo really wasn't shit. Not only because the man hadn't reached out to him, but for making him care so much to begin with. He was done with this guy. Definitely…

Grimmjow took a deep breath and couldn't shake the emotional funk that oppressed him when he exhaled. "Fuck 'im and his orange hair." he spat. "Fuck that weird shit he does wid his eyes and fuck how soft his lips are. He talk to damn much, anyway. Fuck how he tries to act all concerned then can't even call a muthafucka. He ain't-"

In the middle of his rant, Grimmjow stopped once feeling his phone vibrate. In his current state he didn't want the bother. Although, he knew if he didn't at least see who it was he'd be left wondering who attempted to contact him. He pulled out the cell and pressed the wake button. When contact "Orange" popped up on the screen he felt his heart skip a beat but ignored the reaction and immediately went to the message. It looked like Ichigo had written a letter and Grimmjow anxiously read the first line.

-"Hey, Grimm. How are you doing? I know it's getting late, I hope I'm not bothering you."-

"Casual bullshit," Grimmjow gripped and started scrolling through the string of messages, catching what he deemed important.

-"I've been pretty busy, sorry… Constantly thinking about you… I miss the way your arms feel around me… Would love to see you…"-

As he continued to read, Grimmjow found himself smiling, hard. Like his face would split in half if his grin spread any wider. He was content with what he read although he wouldn't reply tonight. Just as he was forced to wait he would be sure Ichigo received the same treatment, not at all caring if such behavior was petty. He had to chuckle, knowing moments ago he were ranting and raving about the man and now was thinking about how to proceed with contacting him. So much for being done with Ichigo.


	18. Chapter 18

Reading the shopping list a third time, Uryū was yet again making sure he hadn't double written another item. The piece of paper was more cross-outs and scribbled lines than a viable list. Times like this he wanted to rely on Ichigo, as his best friend insisted he should. That way, he wouldn't still be sitting in the grocery store parking lot trying to unscramble his thoughts even though he arrived twenty minutes ago. Too bad his pride made him stubborn, as he constantly refused Ichigo's help. Even if his dignity weren't a barrier, he didn't need Ichigo treating him like a helpless child while also carrying the guilt of feeling responsible for what happened. Countless times already he explained to Ichigo he bears no responsibility. He could only insist for so long before feeling like he was talking to a cardboard cut-out. It is Ichigo, after all.

Suddenly hearing vibrations next to him, Uryū picked up the phone sitting in his passenger's seat. It was Nnoitra calling. Immediately he dropped the device, jerking his hand back like the gadget delivered a painful shock. He wished Nnoitra could telepathically receive his signals to cease contact. This situation will only be harder on them both if this continued.

Forcing himself from his Jaguar, Uryū hit the door lock button on his keys as he grabbed a stray cart from the lot, finally feeling the nudge he needed to head in to the store. His first stop was down the cereal aisle where he picked up an organic, better-for-you alternative of what he thought Ichigo should be eating. Uryū didn't consider himself a health nut, but if Ichigo didn't have enough sense to care about what he was putting into his own body, someone else would have to. He spotted steel-cut oats next, finding himself sighing as he dropped the canister in the cart. This façade of trying to do normal everyday tasks like nothing had happened, and like he is supposed to ignore what may happen, felt like mediocre acting in a poorly drafted play. He only realized the extent of his stress this morning when he almost walked out the house with a coral-colored jacket and olive-colored shoes. He could not continue living life this way.

Uryū felt weak in mind, body and spirit. Why had the things his father said have the ability to sway his resolve? He was constantly haunted by the thought Nnoitra had abandoned him and wanted to hear the man's reason first hand. Too bad answering his calls or seeing him weren't an option. He wasn't avoiding Nnoitra because he's grown to detest him, it's the exact opposite. He didn't trust his father, especially since becoming aware of the lengths he'll go to dispose off an inconvenience. He not only feared for Nnoitra's safety, but it had him question many things that happened in the past. Like his only other serious relationship before Nnoitra and how it ended.

He meet Kūgo Ginjō his freshman year in college and the infatuation was mutual. It didn't matter that they weren't of the same social or economic class. Of course, those were the exact reasons why Ryūken didn't approve of the romance, insisting he end it. Even with such discouragement they had a happy and committed relationship, so it was questionably strange when Kūgo disappeared. Uryū had tried to forget about his former beau and the pain his disappearance caused. He imagined the man had discarded his current life for a new one that also included a new partner. However, having the knowledge he does now, he wondered if Kūgo's disappearance was of his own volition and if the man was even still alive. Considering the alternative almost made him nauseous.

He wasn't sure what he could do about Grimmjow's predicament, but if anything ever happened to Nnoitra he would never forgive himself.

Deep in thought, Uryū jumped back, nearly scared half to death when a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch flew over his shoulder and into his shopping cart. He spun around trying to understand what had just taken place when he saw that Shūkurō was standing behind him.

"You seem to be distracted so I figured you could use some help." Shūkurō said, sporting a wide smile.

With a frown, Uryū eyed the man from head to toe. "How did you know I was here?"

Shūkurō shrugged. "How do I know anything?"

Uryū didn't have the energy for his games. He ignored him and moved to the next aisle, stopping to look over the selection of spices.

Shūkurō stayed right on his heels. "You prefer smoked, right?" he asked, as he dropped a bottle of paprika in the cart.

Uryū spun around again, glaring. "Actually, I would prefer if you left me alone. I don't need your help and I would appreciate if you stopped following me. You do know your behavior is very stalker-like?"

"Uryū, you wound me." Shūkurō clasped his hand over his heart with a feigned expression of pain, causing Uryū to roll his eyes. "I guess I should cut to the point. I'm here because of your father."

"Big surprise there. I'm not interested in anything my father has to say."

"You know you have options, right? He wants to give you an ultimatum."

"As if he would ever give me a choice in anything. If he and I can't agree on a civilized manner in which we can fix our problems then there's nothing to discuss."

"I don't think you understand. You're either with him or against him."

"If he can't listen to reason then I have nothing else to say."

Shūkurō stared at Uryū, his expression quizzical. "I know it's none of my business but I think you should give this more consideration. At the very least follow his lead for now. You know what your father is capable of."

"You're right, it is none of your business." Having picked up a container of sea salt, in frustration Uryū slammed it back down on the shelf. "I don't care how much my father is paying you. I don't understand why you overstep boundaries and concern yourself in my personal matters. I'm sure if given the order you world carry out my father's dirty work, even if it were against me."

"Uryū, I could never hurt you." As Shūkurō said that, he gently placed his hand on the man's shoulder.

He sounded so genuine Uryū didn't have his usual urge to jerk or shake away from the unnecessary touch. Some of his agitation even eased.

"Besides," Shūkurō added, "I'm only paid to be the messenger, not the enforcer."

"My mistake," Uryū pushed away the hand touching him. "for a moment I almost thought you a human with a conscience capable of making his own decisions. I'm sure when your job title changes so will your attitude." He turned away from Shūkurō and proceeded up the aisle with his cart.

Shūkurō grabbed Uryū by the upper arm, the hold stopping him but not tight enough to cause pain. "Surely you don't want me to make a scene in here."

Uryū looked around at the other shoppers. If there was one thing he hated, it was being embarrassed by unwanted attention. "What the hell do you want from me?" he asked in a yelling whisper. "I already said I have no interest in whatever my father sent you to tell me."

"Yeah, about that. I'm actually supposed to stop by the house later tonight to discuss your options. It was my choice to find you here and Ryūken doesn't know that. I'm concerned about something and needed to talk to you privately."

Uryū viewed the tall man through narrowed eyes, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking. He was rightfully skeptical of anyone that worked for his father, although curiosity wanted for him to hear Shūkurō out. "I'm not sure how you figure the middle of a grocery store is private, but what do you need to talk to me about?"

Shūkurō looked around, like he expected someone to be watching them but no one appeared to have noticed or cared that the two males were standing in the aisle holding a conversation. "Do you remember-" as Shūkurō began so did his phone. He stopped to check the device and immediately answered. The exchange with the person on the other end was short, with him mainly listening and giving affirmative responses. After hanging up he returned attention back to Uryū. "I have to go, but do me a favor and for now pretend this conversation never happened."

Uryū watched in utter confusion as Shūkurō walked away and disappeared around the aisle's end cap.

X_X_X

Ichigo used a spatula to flip the chicken breast, the breading on one side so burnt it looked like charcoal briquettes. He wondered if it was too far gone, but considering it was going to be coated with sauce he figured that would help the poultry pass as edible. He grabbed the jar of marinara and poured the contents into the skillet. The last step was sprinkling on a mound of cheese then popping the pan under the broiler

"Uryū!" Ichigo yelled from the kitchen, wanting to get the attention of the man who was upstairs on an entirely different floor. His housemate hadn't been eating much lately and Ichigo thought trying his hand at preparing dinner would be a nice change.

Breathing slightly labored from running down the stairs, Uryū looked around the kitchen with much concern. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothin'." Ichigo nonchalantly replied. "Dinner is ready."

"Oh?" Uryū looked at Ichigo wearily. "You didn't have to prepare anything for me, I'm fine."

"No, Uryū, you're not. Ya hardly eat. So sit down."

Uryū hesitantly walked over to the table and took a chair. He wanted to tell Ichigo he could smell the food burning all the way up in his room, but his friend went to the trouble of cooking so he kept the comment to himself. "I'm not in such bad shape you need to start cooking on my behalf."

"How about maybe just appreciate that I wanted to do somethin' nice?"

Ichigo fixed both their plates, placed one in front of Uryū and joined him in sitting at the table.

"Actually, this doesn't look bad." said Uryū, impressed with the dinner of chicken parmesan atop of a bed of pasta with a salad on the side.

Ichigo was also proud of himself and the dinner he prepared. "Either I'm goin' crazy or you just gave my cooking a compliment."

"If you want to be a smartass about it I'll be sure to never give you a compliment again. Besides, I haven't tasted anything yet."

Ichigo waited for Uryū to take a bite then asked, "So, how is it?"

"Well…" Uryū hesitated as he chewed through the burnt chicken. "I'm not dead yet."

Ichigo chuckled, coming from Uryū that was actually praise.

As they continued eating a silence plagued the room, the only noise was silverware clacking against porcelain until Uryū spoke again. "Ichigo, I think there's something I should discuss with you. It's about some of the things my father told me." He had been thinking about the conversation with Ryūken nonstop, and Shūkurō's strange behavior hadn't helped. While his manners told him it wasn't dinner appropriate conversation, he knew the talk was necessary and as good a time as any.

That same instant, Ichigo's phone started ringing. "Sorry, Uryū, one sec?" He fished the device out his pocket and when he saw the screen he could feel the blood draining from his face. Then he looked at Uryū, who was staring at him from across the table, and the discomfort grew tenfold. That's when he removed himself from the kitchen and went into the living room to privately take the call.

"Hello?" Ichigo answered, knowing he sounded as nervous as he felt.

"You a ride or die?" Grimmjow's mellow voice cruised through the receiver, somewhat calming Ichigo's nerves.

The question caught Ichigo off guard. He was familiar with the term but only vaguely. "Is that an ultimatum?"

"You could die from love, at any given chance I could die from slugs but that's what this life is capable of."

"Is everything ok?" Ichigo asked worriedly. He could hear movement through the earpiece and then what sounded like the flick of a lighter. "Grimmjow?"

"Every thug needs a down ass bitch."

"….Ok?" said Ichigo, blindly traversing the conversational maze. "Is there somethin' ya need me to do?"

"I'm textin' this address. If yer 'bout it meet me there in fifteen."

"About what?" Ichigo asked, only to realize Grimmjow had already disconnected the call. He waited what felt like an hour for the text to come through, although in actuality it was a couple minutes. Reading the address, he frowned. He knew the area, as it was in the same vicinity as his school's campus. He wished Grimmjow explained what they would be doing and why he had to make it there under the time constraint, as he was going to have to leave now if he wanted to get there in fifteen minutes.

So much for dinner, this also left the issue of how to deal with Uryū. Ichigo considered leaving wordlessly, saying nothing to his housemate as he made an exit. As an adult, he didn't have to explain his choices or actions to anyone. He just wished his shame would be content with the same reasoning. He felt culpable, running off to go be with the man that tried to kill his best friend. What made him feel worse was despite being apologetic it didn't stop him from doing what he wanted.

As Ichigo left the living room, making instant eye contact with Uryū made him feel like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar. He felt as if he should explain, but wasn't sure what to say. The intensity behind Uryū's eyes had him convinced the man heard his entire conversation. Ichigo felt trapped and looked pleadingly towards the front door, wishing it would open magically and whisk him away.

"I'm goin' out for a bit," Ichigo muttered, hoping Uryū wouldn't ask where he was going. "you should finish eating." He picked up a hoodie strewn across a chair and started towards the front door when he heard Uryū scoot out from sitting at the dining table.

"You're going to see Grimmjow, aren't you?" Uryū accused, standing behind him.

Ichigo stopped, but didn't turn around. "Yeah, there's somethin' I need to do."

"Ichigo no, you can't."

"Yes, I can and I am." When he turned to look at Uryū, the fear he saw pressed into the man's face shook him from within. His best friend looked like he had just witnessed a murder. "Uryū…"

"No, Ichigo, you need to listen to me. It's not safe for you to be with him, it may put your life at risk." While Uryū was confident his father wouldn't harm Ichigo, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Ichigo disagreed with a shake of his head. "I'll be fine, trust me. I know better than to say things to set Grimmjow off."

Reading through the lines, Uryū found the statement offensively suggestive. "Wait a minute, are you implying what happened was my fault?"

"I'm not implying anything, but if that's how ya feel then there's probably some truth there." Right after the words left his mouth Ichigo wished he had avoided the conversation altogether. He wasn't going to lie to his friend, but the facts might be more than Uryū could handle right now. He wouldn't go as far as to say Uryū got what he deserved, but he couldn't imagine anyone in their sane mind saying the things Uryū had to someone like Grimmjow. It was suicide.

The look of alarm pressing into Uryū's features shifted and his lips pursed with resentment. His intention was to warn Ichigo about his father and the threats he made. Although, at this point he was starting to feel like no matter what he said Ichigo would be set in his ways. So what was the point?

"Uryū, you have to understand I'm kinda in the middle here. I don't know what else to say because I really don't have to explain this."

"More like you're so head over heels in love it's clouding your common sense and you can't tell right from wrong."

Ichigo's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak but struggled with a retort. Even if he tried, he didn't think he could make Uryū understand. Their friendship has been through rough patches before and he only hoped this, too, would mend itself with time. They engaged in a brief stare-down before he decided to walk out the door saying nothing more.

"I hope your bullheadedness doesn't cost you your life." Uryū directed the statement at Ichigo, although he knew the man couldn't hear him. The bitterness he felt began to fade and fear made him tense as he watched the closed door, wondering if he should have done more to stop him from leaving.

X_X_X_X

Grimmjow stood in the driveway looking at his phone. Ichigo had less than two minutes to show before he proceeded without him. Sweet texts are a nice visual, but actions speak louder than words. He was wrestling with the voice in his head saying, "fuck 'im", as if still having to prove to himself that Ichigo, and choosing to be with him, isn't a mistake. The moment he thought about second guessing his choices, Ichigo's coupe appeared and rolled to a stop on the semi-circle designed pavestone.

Ichigo stepped from his car, looking around at the property that surrounded him. The first thing he noticed, after Grimmjow, were the large bushes the blue-haired man stood in front of. They were all pristinely trimmed to the shape of large snakes. He'd seen the centerpiece before, as it often grabbed his attention when riding through the area. He never paid the structure behind it much heed, however. Assuming it were just another building for commercial business like many around it.

"What is this place?" Ichigo asked, approaching the blue-haired male.

Grimmjow scowled and grabbed Ichigo by his wrist, pulling him to within two inches of his chest. "That's how ya greet me?"

"Oh, sorry." Ichigo apologized. He had been more concerned with where he was and why he was summoned there. "Hello, Grimmjow." Ichigo said rather formally.

"Don't play. Greet me like ya meant all the shit ya said in that long ass text."

Ichigo felt his face grow warm at being reminded of the heartfelt message. Without thinking he had spilled everything on his mind in a longer than necessary text to the thug. He hadn't thought about how sappy and needy he came off until after sending it. In any case, it evidently got his point across so there was no point in being embarrassed about it now. Ichigo rubbed his hands along the taller man's shoulders then wrapped his arms around his neck. Slowly he leaned forward until pressing their lips together, holding the kiss only for a moment then releasing.

"That's better." Grimmjow enveloped Ichigo's waist tightly with his arms, pulling him against his body.

Ichigo basked in the feeling of those arms wrapped around him and knew any aggravation up until that point had been worth it. He could tell Grimmjow was genuinely glad to see him. As he stared into the beautiful blues he saw a mix of emotions, most of which seemed happy although it was obvious the man is dealing with other things as well. Before Ichigo could decipher the puzzle displayed through Grimmjow's eyes, the man released him and walked off. Ichigo tagged along as Grimmjow followed the path leading to a set of arched doors. The ease of their interactions led him to believe their relationship would be fine, and his relief was evident when a sigh mingled with his exhale. More tension was the last thing he needed, as he was already dealing with a full plate of stress with no space for an extra helping.

"So," said Ichigo, "ya never told me why I'm here."

"Yer here cus I want ya here. That a problem?"

"Well, no, but I was given fifteen minutes to get here like it was an emergency."

"Nah, this muthafucka had me make an appointment." Grimmjow stopped to lean on one of two large, engraved pillars on each side of the double doors.

Ichigo watched Grimmjow who had grown silent, perched with his arms folded and head down. "Are we waiting on someone, then?"

"Can't do shit but wait." Grimmjow looked up at the doors, eye's tracing their header. "Ya'll know I'm here."

A scuffling sound could he heard coming from the other side of the door. "Hold your horses, will you?" replied a feminine voice muffled from being inside the building. A quiet, digital beep was heard followed by a metallic click and one of the doors opened.

Standing in the doorway was a curvaceously-built strawberry blonde, blue eyes looking the men over with a slight pout on her plump lips. She wore thigh-high black boots, barely there belted navy shorts and a matching top that aided little in concealing her abundant chest. The topper was a badge adorned peaked cap, her scant outfit a play on an enforcement officer's uniform.

"Oh shit!" Grimmjow exclaimed into a fist up to his mouth. "He let ya'll answer the front door wearin' that freaky shit?"

The woman sucked her teeth. "So rude, and to think I bothered to walk all the way over here to say hi personally. Luckily, you're not who I came to see." as she said that, she smiled at Ichigo. "Hi, I'm Rangiku."

"I'm Ichigo, it's nice to meet you." He introduced himself and tried not to gawk at the woman's attire, or lack thereof.

"Well, polite and handsome." The buxom blonde grabbed Ichigo's hand, pulling him through the door. She linked their arms together, walking as they talked. "You have to tell me your secret."

While Ichigo didn't appreciate a stranger's touch, he simply tried to remind himself some people are annoyingly friendly this way. "What secret is that?"

"You know, how you converted Grimm. I've heard some interesting things, but nothing is as ripe as the grape directly from the vine. Surly it was no easy t-"

"Sad." Grimmjow cut into her inquiry. "Ain't got better shit to do than talk 'bout me. Needa stay off my dick."

"Please." Rangiku scoffed. "Considering how many ladies have been on that dick, you make for good conversation."

"Ya'll birds stay wid the gossip. Quit babblin' and take me where I needa go."

"Dear god," Rangiku moaned. "I don't see how you put up with him."

Ichigo smiled awkwardly. "Rangiku, what is this place?" he asked, changing the subject. The conversation was becoming uncomfortable and it wasn't as if he planned on answering the invasive question. They walked across a beige, tile floor past lobby chairs and sleek, office desks in what looked like a reception area.

"Hm?" she hummed. "We run something like a little travel agency for those interested in globe-trotting."

Grimmjow snorted. "More like globe-thotting."

Rangiku rolled her eyes, ignoring him. They reached a door at the back of the lobby with a key card entry system. She swiped her card and unlocked the door for the men. "Just head straight down the hall, you're expected. I would stay but I'm in the middle of working." She placed her hand on Ichigo's shoulder and leaned against his arm while her French manicured nails trailed down to his chest. "It was very nice meeting you, Ichigo."

"Uh yeah, nice meeting you, too." Ichigo was trying his hardest not to be rude and cringe away. He definitely didn't welcome her leaning on him, his bicep nearly disappearing between her mountain of breast. She's a gorgeous woman but he wasn't the least bit entertained by her flirting. It was unnerving, especially since he could feel Grimmjow's eyes boring a hole through him.

Rangiku closed the door, leaving the men to find the rest of the way on their own. As the two traveled down the hall Ichigo could still feel Grimmjow giving him the side-eye.

"What's up?" Ichigo asked.

"Wonderin' if yer straight gay or will ya fuck wid a jawn type gay."

Ichigo blinked twice before realizing nothing about that sentence made sense to him. "I'm kinda lost here."

Grimmjow didn't feel like explaining. The thought had crossed his mind but Ichigo's response wasn't needed. It didn't matter if his Orange is one hundred percent gay, bi-sexual or any percentage along the scale, if he betrayed him with anyone, someone would be six feet under. He already warned the man of this the day he gave him boo status. "Best remember what I said." Grimmjow advised.

"What? Said when?" asked a bewildered Ichigo.

Turning the only corner in the hall, a sturdily built, tanned-skin man stood outside the last door in the corridor.

"Look at this yoked up muthafucka." said Grimmjow, chuckling as he reached out to give the man daps. "What's good, Chad?"

Ichigo glared at the blue-haired man for ignoring him. What purpose was there in warning him, then not clarifying what he was being warned about?

"What it do, Grimm?" Chad returned the handshake then stepped aside allowing access to the area behind him.

When Grimmjow opened the door he put a hand to Ichigo's chest, stopping the man from following him further. "Wait here," he instructed then closed the door.

Ichigo's shoulders slumped with disappointment. It would've been nice to be included, especially after making an unexpected trip to be there. He looked up at Chad, who returned eye contact but was otherwise expressionless. He had no idea why he looked to the brown-haired man, it wasn't like Chad could aid him. Seeing arm chairs lining the wall, Ichigo sat in one and waited.

v_v_v

As Grimmjow entered the room, he was welcomed by the back of an oversized, office chair that slowly and dramatically spun around until facing forward.

Gin perched both his elbows on the long, polished desk and interlocked his fingers. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Grimmjow couldn't contain the glower that appeared the moment he saw the silver-haired man. "Let's cut the bullshit."

Gin sighed, a mock pout on his lips. "You're no fun. I guess it's straight to business with you."

"In my situation there ain't no time for games."

Gin rested his chin atop his interlocked fingers. "What situation would that be, Grimmjow?"

"Don't play like ya ain't heard. Ya'll know every muthafuckas business."

Gin nodded, admitting the assertion. "I've heard you've been a bad boy, and as a result an important person wants you dead. Why you're wanted dead," Gin stopped mid sentence to pick up a floral patterned teacup and saucer on his desk, taking a sip from the contents. "Oh, my apologies. Would you like anything? Tea, perhaps? The most wonderful blend arrived from India this morning. Pairs beautifully with the pastries my baker whipped up."

Grimmjow started at Gin with a mix of bewilderment and irritation, his eye twitched and he had to restrain himself from snapping. "Do it look like I'm here for tea and crumpets?"

Gin's wide smile did little to hide his amusement. He knows the state of affairs is dire, but Grimmjow was so sexy when riled up. He could even see the veins popping in his neck. "I was just trying to be hospitable. But as I was saying, I don't know the details. I do know you're not the only one in trouble. Why didn't Kūkaku come see me personally?"

"She’s handlin' shit her own way. Plus, she don't trust third party shit. Where's yer boss?"

"When my darling is away I have free reign. What I say goes, so it's my decision if I choose to help you. I could offer my assistance, but you're going to have to prove you really want it."

"I ain't 'bout to grovel and beg like some dog if that's what yer sayin'."

"Oh Grimm… don't be a tease. As much as I would love to see you on your hands and knees before me, I was thinking more along the lines of a job."

Grimmjow forcefully ignored the sexual connotations lining Gin's words. "What kind? I ain't sellin' my dick or whatever yer tricks do in that escortin' shit."

"Au contraire, dear Grimm, my lovelies do far more than sell their… private goods, but I'll spare you the details. This job is nothing of the sort. It needs to be beneficial for both of us if I'm to involve myself. It entails a little death and theft, nothing you're not accustomed to."

Grimmjow grunted, offended. "I ain't no thief, I grind for mines."

"Yes, of course, a drug dealing killer with morals. You inspire us all." Gin quipped, his sarcasm lost on the thug. "Actually, it's more like securing lost property, although I don't think you're in a position to be too picky."

Gin was right, Grimmjow knew that. His options were limited and he had more than his life to consider. If he found he didn't have enough humility to do it for himself, he would remember those he cares about. He couldn't predict how big a tornado was brewing, but it was best to secure shelter just encase they found themselves caught in a bad storm. "Aight," said Grimmjow, determined. "let's hear it."

Smile never ceasing, Gin pointed to one of the empty chairs across from his desk. "Alright then, take a seat."

v_v_v

"You're Rin's brother, Ichigo, right?"

In his thoughts, it took Ichigo a moment to realize Chad was talking to him. "That's right, you were at my sister's party."

"Hm," Chad nodded. "How's Rin? Haven't seen her around Tatsuki's lately."

"I bet. She's so wrapped up in Orihime since they got a place together. I hardly hear from her myself."

"I see. Tell her hello for me next time you talk to her."

"Will do," Ichigo assured.

"Well," said an intruding voice. "Look at this pretty ass muthafucka here."

Ichigo looked towards the interjection and immediately felt annoyed upon seeing the red-haired goon. "Oh, it's you."

"If we keep meetin' like this I'm gonna think there's some significance to It." said Renji. He gave Chad a nod, then came to stand in front of where Ichigo sat.

"Think whatever ya want." said Ichigo, disinterest in engaging the man.

"Why ya gotta be so cold? How 'bout we start over?"

"Start over from where? The point after you and your friend car jacked me or tried to fight me in the convenience store?"

Renji chuckled. "C'mon, I'm a changed man from those days. I'll even make it up to ya. Free this weekend?"

Gin stood just inside the doorframe, grinning at the two. "Now, now, Renji." he admonished. "Go find your own toy, that one belongs to Grimmjow."

The door had opened so quietly, neither noticed that Gin and Grimmjow were emerging from it.

Grimmjow nearly shoved the silver haired man, rushing to face Renji. He didn't have to say anything, his killer-esque expression saying all.

Disbelieving, Renji stared wide-eyed at Grimmjow then his eyes returned to Ichigo. His uncertainty lasted only a moment before he burst into laughter. It hit him so hard he flew back into the wall, clutching his gut from laughter induced pain. "Wait a sec, Grimmjow get's down wid the get down? You've gotta be shittin' me."

"Gon', laugh it up muthafucka." Grimmjow encouraged. "Wanna make somethin' of it?"

"Nah," Renji waved his hand. "I don't care who ya fuck, it's just unexpected'. I ain't hatin', I mean he cute as fuck, so props."

"Fuck outta here, I don't need yer props and he don't need yer compliments."

Gin clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "I'm glad we're all getting along so well." He shooed the bickering men to opposite sides of the hall and at the same time stepping between them to reach Ichigo. "It's wonderful seeing you again." He said, grabbing the man's hand.

"Ah… Gin, right?" Although it had been some time since he first saw Gin, the man wasn't easily forgotten. Even if his distinguished appearance weren't so memorable, the day they first encountered each another certainly was. "Nice to see you, too."

Gin sighed, squeezing Ichigo's palm. "These two are a handful, aren't they? But you seem to handle yourself well. I could use someone like you on my team."

Before Ichigo could even part his lips, Grimmjow grabbed his arm, pulling him from the chair. "We're done, let's go." he said, ushering his boo down the hall. Grimmjow shot Gin a menacing glare, sending the message he didn't appreciate him again trying to recruit Ichigo.

Gin waved goodbye, unfazed. "I'll be in touch."

Grimmjow continued to guide Ichigo until they were back out on the pavestone.

"So, what was that about?" asked Ichigo once outside the building.

"Don't worry 'bout it." Grimmjow replied, brushing him off.

"I don't get it. You'll have me in the midst of everything but won't include me?"

"Shit's complicated right now. I'm leavin' town for a few days to handle some business. I don't know how informed ya are, but there's a lot at play between my peoples and ya peoples, peoples. Glasses ain't been tellin' ya nothin'?"

Ichigo thought back on his conversations with Uryū, shaking his head once realizing there wasn't much to recall. "No. He hardly talks to me."

Grimmjow tried to gauge his honesty, unsure if Ichigo were attempting to protect his best friend. However, the moment he stared into his eyes, he knew they told no lies. It was nothing against his boo personally; the thug was reluctant to trust the word of anyone. "I ain't draggin' ya into this cus I don't want ya gettin' hurt." Not only did Grimmjow wish to protect Ichigo in all aspects, he wouldn't ask or expect him to pick a side. Truth be acknowledged, it would be more damaging than he would admit if Ichigo was forced to choose and it wasn't him.

"Grimm…" Ichigo's visage softened at the confession. "you care about me."

"Are ya statin' obvious shit or askin' a dumb question?"

Ichigo found himself smiling. "It was a statement, but if it were a question you just answered it. Why couldn't ya just say that from the beginning?"

"Why ya gotta be a damn nag?"

"Because," Ichigo linked his finger around Grimmjow's pinky to test his reaction, and when he got none, he locked their hands together as they walked to his car. "I care about you too." He realized that was an understatement. Uryū's comment about being in love wasn't off the mark. Love is a strong word, but so are his feelings.

"Yer gonna show me how much ya care cus I ain't leavin' 'til tomorrow. Me and you, we chillin' 'til then."

"Sounds like I don't have a choice in the matter. Not that I'm complaining."

"Word." Grimmjow squeezed Ichigo's hand. "Long as yer down for me we gon' be aight."

* * *

 

*Conversation on the phone lyrics from Ja Rule Feat. Charlie Baltimore – Down Ass Bitch


	19. Chapter 19

Lurking is not the same as stalking. Too bad he didn't believe his own logic. From the shadows he kept watch and in truth Nnoitra felt like a predator prowling outside of Uryū's home. In his own defense, he had exhausted all other options. A person can only call and wait for so long before feeling the need to take the next step. He would do what he must because his need to see Uryū was on par with his need to breathe. He had never felt like this with anyone before and trying to comprehend the feelings was like trying to comprehend a crash course in abstract algebra. While math wasn't one of Nnoitra's better subjects in school, he understood enough to know what he feels is real. That's all the incentive he needed to keep trying.

Through observation, Nnoitra noticed the Jaguar wasn't always park exactly the same way and lights coming on inside the home even when Orange was gone. Despite having yet to witness an appearance, Uryū was home. That aspect gave him a sense of relief, however, Uryū keeping himself confined was worrying. Although Nnoitra imagined he too would be withdrawn if someone tried to kill him. He considered all the scenarios that could've taken place where the fight would've never happened. No matter from what angle Nnoitra perceived the incident, he knew he held some responsibility and no one could convince him otherwise. He vowed to make it up to Uryū and see to it that nothing like what happened that day ever took place again. Just, he needed to actually be given the chance to see the oath through. He wouldn't believe Uryū was dodging him until hearing it from the man's mouth directly.

As luck would have it, he would have the ability to ask him sooner than he anticipated since Uryū was emerging from the house. It felt like time stopped and the sighting of a rare and beautiful being had his heart racing. Uryū was busy, bent down digging for something from his car and didn't notice Nnoitra approach. After finding what he was seeking, he turned around just as the man was nearing an arm's reach.

Uryū flew back against his Jaguar in shock and placed a hand over his rapidly beating heart. His mouth flew open, set to yell at the same time Nnoitra threw his arms around him. His voice choked off in his throat and in that man's arms he swore he would have melted into a puddle if he wasn't being held upright. Uryū wished to avoid an encounter like this because it did nothing but capitalize on how much he missed his lover. Uryū thought he donned a credible mask while struggling daily with how much he cared for this man and standing by the decision he convinced himself was right. Despite all that, it only took one touch to feel like he was coming undone. To make matters worse, Nnoitra leaned down and kissed him and Uryū felt like he was drifting under water. Before losing himself and falling victim to the waves, the glasses wearer pulled himself together. Otherwise, every step he's taken thus far in avoiding Nnoitra would be in vain.

"Nnoitra," Uryū said, pushing some distance between them. "We need to talk."

Nnoitra nodded, agreeing. "Come take a ride wid me."

"That's not a good idea. There's something I need to say."

"Whatever it is, don't stress it." Nnoitra grabbed Uryū's hand and attempted to lead him to where he was hiding his Hummer.

Uryū held his ground and played tug-of-war with his own arm. "Please, listen. I…" he found himself dawdling with the next words. It was harder to say than he thought, having practiced this conversation many times in his mind proved useless. As the words attempted to leave his mouth it felt like a heavy lump formed on the back of his tongue. When Nnoitra turned around to look at him, Uryū couldn't make eye contact and swallowed hard, moistening his drying throat. "I'm sorry, but I think we should break up."

Nnoitra stared at the shorter male for a good minute, saying nothing. The silence seemed to stretch on indefinitely until he finally spoke. "Expect me to believe that shit when ya can't look me in my face while ya say it?"

Uryū couldn't refute that point. "Well, whether or not you believe it-" To Uryū's dismay he became interrupted by Nnoitra bursting into laughter.

"Swerved on a muthafucka now wanna break his heart. Damn, baby, that's cold."

Uryū didn't respond, he could only look down at the cement driveway where his car sat. He was afraid to make eye contact with Nnoitra as he knew he would find himself fighting the urge to cry.

"I know I can't force ya to change yer mind, but before ya make a final decision we need to talk it out. Gotta be on some old couple type shit. Runnin' from problems ain't fixin' nothin'."

Struggling to find a counterargument, Uryū chewed on his bottom lip silently.

"C'mon," Nnoitra said, pulling on Uryū's hand. "Let's ride out. My boss wants to talk to ya."

"Wait, why?" Uryū asked, finally opening his mouth. "What does she need to talk to me about?"

"She'll tell ya when we get there."

The idea didn't settle well with Uryū. "I'm not so sure about this."

"It's nothin' ya need’a stress 'bout. Plus, I'll be there. It'll be fine."

Although uncertain, Uryū allowed himself to be led away. With feelings of guilt, giving Nnoitra this much of his time seemed like the least he could do. The ride was uneventful, Nnoitra held casual conversation like they hadn't spend time apart and Uryū hadn't said he wanted to end their relationship. The glasses wearer found this disconcerting, but tried his best not to make their exchange awkward. After riding along a long stretch of dusty road that seemed to lead nowhere, they pulled into the almost barren lot housing the antique shop.

"Where are we?" Uryū asked. "Looks like you brought me to a thrift store."

"Pretty much. It's my Auntie's spot, the one I told ya 'bout, Antiquated."

Uryū followed Nnoitra to the front of the building. He waited as the man unlocked the doors and heard the sound of a bell tinging as they entered the lightless shop. At the opposite side of the room, Nnoitra adjusted some switches to brighten the space.

"The boss won't be comin' through for a minute, so we gotta find somethin' to do 'til then." said Nnoitra, before he disappeared in a side room.

Uryū circled around a rack of men's clothing, fingering the plastic hangers the garments hung from. If this was a thrift store it didn't seem like one. Most of the items looked new and there was no old, grandmas' attic-like sent associated with many stores that carried used and antique items. Uryū didn't consider himself ignorant, he could tell the business was a cover for something else. He was well aware of the illegality of Nnoitra's lifestyle, they even discussed it on occasions though never going into gritty detail. That aspect hadn't stopped him from falling for the taller man, so there were no judgments being passed from his end. Besides, considering the man that raised him was no candidate for Pope, he knew he didn't have the right to judge others.

In the middle of examining what looked to be a brand new, single-breasted blazer, from his peripheral vision Uryū notice Nnoitra had returned and was watching him. "Do you have a reason for studying me?"

"If I told ya, you'd call it bullshit."

"I highly doubt that."

Nnoitra sighed, then said, "I was tryna memorize yer face, so if ya walk outta my life I'll still see it in my dreams."

The sweet words hit Uryū like an arrow intended to leave him dumbstruck. "You… are you being serious?" Nnoitra expressed his feelings through his actions, such affection-laced words were a rarity.

The two men gazed at one another, Uryū's dark blue eyes ever softening to the man he's been without.

The corner of Nnoitra's mouth curled up deviously. "Come see if I'm serious."

Uryū rolled his eyes. "Oh please. That goofy grin is very telling."

"Nah," Nnoitra chuckled, though tried looking serious with a more somber expression. "come 'ere, like, for real for real."

Uryū lingered at the clothes, stalling nervously as he thumbed over a piece of cashmere before beginning the trek across the floor. As he did so, the lights around him dimmed and lyrics to a song began to fade-in.

 _Baby, tonight's the night I let you know_   
_Baby, tonight's the night we lose control_  
_Baby, tonight you need that, tonight believe that_  
Tonight I'll be the best you ever had

John Legend – Tonight (Best You Ever Had) was playing over hidden speakers. Uryū's focus shot up to the ceiling, his eyes darting from left to right like the sudden change in atmosphere frightened him. "What's going on?"

"Nothin'," Nnoitra assured, trying his hardest not to smile at the comical expression on his babe's face, and held out his hand. "I'm just settin' the mood."

Uryū accepted the hand but gave the man a skeptical look. "The mood for what exactly?"

Nnoitra didn't answer his question, instead wrapped the shorter male in his arms and bent down to whisper in his ear. "Wanna dance?"

Uryū shivered as the warmth of Nnoitra's breath fanned across his neck and he clutched at the man's shirt. "You know I'm not in a dancing mood."

"Aight," Nnoitra lifted the man up and Uryū instinctively wrapped his legs around his waist. "we'll skip to the breakup sex."

In response, Uryū trembled and held on to him tighter. He felt like he should be expressing opposition but it seemed his body was working on its own agenda. The mere mention of intimacy set his desire a blaze.

"Knew ya wouldn't object to this dick." Nnoitra said smugly, feeling Uryū's growing erection against his stomach. "The glasses might make ya look innocent but I know that ain't the case."

"Shut up," Uryū mumbled and rested his face in the nook of the man's neck. He was admittedly peeved with his lack of resistance considering he held other concerns as well. "We shouldn't, your boss-"

"Ain't comin' back for a minute. We got more than enough time." Nnoitra carried Uryū into a small room modestly furnished with a wooden table, sectional and futon sofa already laid flat. Lit candles sat around the area perfuming it with vanilla. He sat Uryū on the edge of the futon then got down on the floor to sit on his knees in front of him. He leaned in with a kiss and began assessing the other's mouth hungrily, diving in tongue first to explore every corner. Uryū moaned into the orifice, wishing his mind would tell him no, even though his body was demanding more. He wanted some kind of counter so he'd have the will to refuse this man's touch, but it was a craving that showed no sign of ceasing. He knew he was going to have a hell of a time proving truthful in claiming he wanted to end their relationship, although at this point he had to push that worry aside until later.

Nnoitra forced a separation long enough to strip Uryū out his shirt. His mouth found a spot on the man's neck where he placed open mouthed kisses, working and tasting his way down. Briefly he stopped to roll his tongue around the copper shaded areola and suck a hardened nipple. Uryū sighed and placed a hand on the back of the man's head, massaging at the nape. Nnoitra continued on, focusing on the spot right above the band of Uryū's khakis, his tongue licking across the slight stripe of dark hair that disappeared into his pants. Uryū worked to untie the knot keeping his lover's bandana in place, tossing the cloth to the side so he could freely run fingers through his hair.

Nnoitra hummed, loving the sensation when Uryū's nails gently scraped across his scalp. He pushed the shorter male back against the futon and removed the remainder of Uryū's clothing. He peeled off his own shirt, and still on his knees positioned his face between Uryū's legs where he kissed at his inner thighs, coming tauntingly close but never close enough to his more sensitive areas. The smaller man bit his lip when a fine tremor swept through him, his dick twitching in response.

Nnoitra smiled, he could clearly see the need of his lover escalating. That meant Uryū was ripe for teasing. He stopped his actions and rested his head against one of Uryū's thighs, saying, "I forgot to ask 'bout yer day, the usual shit."

Confused, Uryū lifted his head. His lust-darkened sapphire eyes glowered at Nnoitra menacingly. "Instead of asking unnecessary questions, you can make better use of your mouth by filling it with my cock."

Nnoitra cursed silently. His dick was as hard as a steel club, and possibly as dangerous as one. If he weren't so aroused he would've laughed, the noise that escaped him instead more akin to a growl. The fact Uryū still sported his glasses made it that much better. Joking aside, he slid an arm under one of Uryū's legs, adjusting it to sit along his shoulder. Once comfortable with his position he sucked Uryū's length in to his mouth. The man beneath him groaned, trying to move his hips up toward the sopping warmth but Nnoitra's firm grasp held against the futon. He started out painfully slow, tasting, enjoying and swallowing the pre-cum that leaked from his lover. Then he increased momentum and suction, the obscene, wet, sucking noises arousing music to them both.

When he removed his mouth and began stroking with his hand, in a whimper Uryū protested. Gently but firmly he pushed Nnoitra's head down between his further spreading legs, directing him to where he wanted that mouth next. It didn't take much coaching for Nnoitra to understand what was being requested. He loved how forthright and downright aggressive Uryū could be when wanting something. As a man that didn't consider himself easily bent or molded, with Uryū he was about the equivalent of putty.

Nnoitra lifted Uryū's legs and held them by the thighs to keep them pressed back. "Yer nasty," he teased.

Uryū lips crooked in a half smile. Nasty, smutty, lewd, Nnoitra could call him whatever he wanted. He didn't give a damn and wouldn't deny it. When he felt the heat of Nnoitra's breath brushing the sensitive area under his balls, he held his breath expectantly. The first lap of wet tongue across his tightly wound bundle sent a wave of pleasure though him, a higher pitched moaned escaping when it gently prodded and he relaxed allowing him entry.

Uryū encouragingly fingered through the man's inky stands of hair. "I love the way you do that, you're so efficient." he murmured.

A low, long grunting sounded from Nnoitra in return as he tongue-fucked his lover. He couldn't stop imagining how it would feel when he slid his dick into that waiting hole. He gave himself a pat down, searching his pockets until locating the small bottle of lube, his other hand fervently working to undo the button and zipper of his jeans. Nnoitra applied a few more laps with his tongue in finishing then got up and joined Uryū on the futon. His erection pressed almost painfully against the fabric of his boxers as he sat back on his calves beside his shorter mate. With a press of his thumb the cap of the lube snapped open and he squeezed a liberal amount on his fingers. He pressed one of the slicked digits against his lover's portal, encircling it gently then pushing it in.

Uryū's breathing deepened, his half-lid eyes stared at Nnoitra's generous bulge. Raised slightly off the futon, he sat up on his elbows and his hand squeezed at the impressive package before he pulled the man's boxers down to set it free. No matter how many times he saw it, it never ceased to amaze. Length, girth, appearance, everything was above his standard of satisfactory. If he were in the business of grading dicks, Nnoitra would receive top honors. He couldn't resist sliding the head over his tongue, tasting his partner as he was being prepared for the appendage.

"Fuck," Nnoitra hissed, trying his hardest to maintain control and finish what he began. He added a second finger, pressing them knuckle deep.

Uryū's hand began stroking the shaft and his mouth engulfed the head. Nnoitra's patience was quickly diminishing, literally aching at this point to be buried inside Uryū. He pushed in a third finger and Uryū's moan vibrated against his cock, the sensation rippled pleasurably through his body. Removing his fingers, he pushed the boxers down under his knees and slid them off. With more lube he slicked this throbbing length then crawled between Uryū's legs. Positioning himself for entry, his eyes rolled over the lithe body under him then he leaned down to capture lips in a quick peck. He removed Uryū's glasses, setting them safely to the side and observed the man's beautiful blues. They looked like the darkest and finest crafted azurite gems he could imagine. It had been too long since he last had the chance to stare down at his lover like this and smiled at having the chance to reaffirm what he already knew. Uryū is unquestionably the most beautiful man he's ever seen.

Uryū mistook the grin as mischievous and narrowed his eyes at the one over him. "Whatever it is, don't you dare start." he warned. "Can you just put it in already?"

Nnoitra ran with it, not telling him the truth behind the reason for his smile. "Who ya think yer rushin'? This is breakup sex, gotta make it last."

Uryū sighed. For the moment he had forgotten. "Must you talk about that right now?"

Nnoitra leaned down and ran his tongue across Uryū's nipple. "Just keepin' it real."

Uryū moaned, arching his back. "Can you… keep it real with your dick inside me?"

"Nah," said Nnoitra, hovering above the other nipple before tracing the areola with his tongue. "talkin' fucks up my stroke game."

Uryū bit his lip and pushed his body towards the stiffness stationary outside his entrance, but he was going to need the other to cooperate as well. "Dammit, Nnoitra, fuck me."

Nnoitra didn't feel inclined to oblige him, having planned to do what he wanted with Uryū at his own pace, but without thought he pressed forward, his dick seeking and needing to feel heat. Slowly his tip stretched Uryū wider and in one slow, fluid thrust his thick shaft was fully engulfed. Uryū moaned loudly and wrapped his legs around Nnoitra's hips. With one hand holding Uryū's waist, Nnoitra's strokes began purposely painfully slow.

Uryū tried to buck his hips upwards to entice his partner to pick up the pace. "Faster," he breathed. "this is torture."

"Chill, baby," Nnoitra reached down and began stoking his lover's member with his free hand. "Not yet,"

He was serious about making it last. While he didn't believe Uryū truly wanted to end their relationship, the threat had him scared. Not only would he drag out the sex, but he was determined to fuck Uryū so good that if his babe couldn't remember any other reasons why they should stay together, he would remember tonight. Nnoitra used his thumb to massage the sensitive region on the underside of Uryū's dick while he angled his thrusts so every time his hips moved the head of his cock grazed that special spot inside his lover.

Uryū's breathing ragged and he rhythmically bucked his hips in tune with Nnoitra's hand on his cock. He leaned up to wrapped his arms around Nnoitra's neck, pulling him down until their faces were but an inch apart. "Fuck. Me. Faster." He demanded, making sure to put emphasis on each word.

Nnoitra's eyes narrowed and an aroused growled vibrated in his throat. His moving hips slowed nearly to a stop. "Missed this dick?"

Uryū seemed a bit surprised by the question but bit his bottom lip and nodded.

Nnoitra then stopped completely. One eye clouded and the other stone gray stared down intensely at the flustered man that looked up at him. "Did ya miss me?"

Uryū stiffened slightly, hesitating only because it was a simple question that needed more than a simple response. "Yes," he replied. Of course he missed Nnoitra but their situation is complicated. "Of course, but-"

Nnoitra withdrew his cock almost completely then slammed back into him causing Uryū to yelp with a surprised moan. Uryū stared at him with his mouth agape, clearly shocked and now speechless. For Nnoitra, there are no if, ands, or buts about it. After given the answer he was seeking he didn't want to hear anything else Uryū had to say. He used both hands to hold Uryū's legs back as he fucked him hard, fast and deep.

Whimpers of pleasure erupted from Uryū and he clung to Nnoitra's arms, digging his nails into skin. The feeling of Nnoitra's impressive member stretching him so deeply had to be the greatest sensation he's ever felt. His body agreed, as the missed feeling was so welcomed he almost felt like crying.

Panting, Nnoitra pressed Uryū's legs into the futon further so he could better angle his thrusts. Bliss radiated throughout Uryū's body as Nnoitra worked his prostate. He reached one hand down to grab his erection and the miniscule amount of stimulation had his orgasm clawing to the surface. A faint pulsating began building in his lower half and his eyes rolled back when the climax struck. His muscles tightened and Nnoitra ground against his ass, his grunts sounding almost angry as he shot his hot seed deep inside his lover. He released his hold of Uryū's legs and balanced on his forearms on each side of Uryū's head to lean down and place a kiss on his flushed cheek.

"Still wanna break up?" Nnoitra asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Just barely finding a steady breathing pattern, Uryū smiled. However, the humor was short lived when reality began to sink in. He turned his attention to a blank wall and huffed. "Would you really like to discuss this right now?"

Truthfully Nnoitra didn't want to discuss the matter all, but it couldn't be helped. He carefully slid out of Uryū's body and stood, gathering his strewn clothing. "Later, the folks will be back soon." He helped Uryū up and led him to a nearby bathroom where they were able to clean up and re-dress. When they returned to the main section of the shop, noise directing attention to the door on the other side of the room alerted them to company.

"It's them. Auntie K just gon' ask a couple questions then we'll bounce."

Uryū grabbed Nnoitra's hand, suddenly feeling uneasy, though not entirely sure why. It could be because he was certain he would be questioned about the incident involving Grimmjow and he didn't feel like talking about it. Then, there was the fact he was meeting Nnoitra's Aunt and her intimately close bodyguard. The way Nnoitra spoke of them, he knew it was akin to meeting his boyfriends parents. That's usually a fairly large leap forward in a relationship and he wished it was under different circumstances.

Nnoitra noticed the nervousness. "It's cool, babe." He said and squeezed the hand in his to reassure him. If he could ease Uryū's tension by clueing him in on what the conversation would entail, he would. However, Kūkaku refused to even hint at her line of questioning. She had said it's easier to gauge a person's honesty when you catch them off guard. She also informed him she didn't trust he wouldn't feed the glasses wear every detail of their conversation. He didn't argue her point. She was right.

Nnoitra led the walk to the other side of the room and opened the office door. When they entered, the two women engaged in a discussion stopped talking and looked towards the intrusion. Uryū gasped before he could contain the sound. It shocked him to be standing before the same dark-haired woman he saw in the pictures from his father's file. If she is connected to Grimmjow it only made sense she would also be connected to Nnoitra. He immediately felt realization strike him like a fist to the gut. Death was looming over this woman's head and she likely didn't know it.

Kūkaku sat behind her desk and narrowed her eyes at Uryū's behavior. Her gaze then shifted to her nephew. "What's with him?" she asked Nnoitra.

Nnoitra looked down at the shorter male and put his hand on his shoulder, rubbing comfortingly. "What up, babe? You aight?"

Uryū pulled himself together, embarrassed he had reacted the way he did. "I'm fine." He said and walked further in the office to extend his hand to Kūkaku.

Before he could reach her, the other woman jumped to a sitting position atop the desk and spun to where she was blocking access to Kūkaku. She instead took Uryū's hand, checking the front and back of it before shaking.

"Uryū, right? It's nice to meet you, I'm Yoruichi." Her golden irises bore in to the man and she smirked.

Uryū was caught off guard by Yoruichi’s actions but regarded her kindly nonetheless. "Yes, it's nice to meet you as well." Although he had never seen her among his father's files, he couldn't help but wonder if she too were a target of Ryūken's aggression.

Kūkaku stood from her seated position and walked around the desk to take the hand that was originally offered to her first. "Don't mind her," she said as she shook Uryū's hand. "my guard can be a bit overbearing." She ignored when Yoruichi cut her eyes in her direction and leaned against the wood.

"Precautions?" Uryū questioned. "I understand." Considering who his father is she had a right to be leery.

"Well, that makes things easier." said Kūkaku who then looked to Nnoitra. "You check him for bugs?"

Nnoitra scratched at him temple, not immediately answering the question. "Saw plenty of 'im to know he ain't hidin' nothin'. He's good."

Kūkaku rolled her eyes away from her nephew and gave Yoruichi a knowing glance. Without words, they seemed to come to an understanding and Yoruichi stood to leave.

Uryū watched her disappear though a door at the side of the office before he spoke up. "I assure you I'm clean and brought no insects with me." He was hiding the fact he was becoming annoyed. It was like she was insinuating he's dirty.

Nnoitra laughed and rubbed Uryū’s back. "Nah babe, she ain't talkin' 'bout roaches and shit like that."

Kūkaku nodded. "I was referring to surveillance equipment such as tracking or listening devices. I was wondering if you held the same fondness as Ryūken for such things. As you know your father is very keen on them."

Perplexed, Uryū took in her words with a furrowed brow. That was news to him, but it made perfect sense. It would explain how Ryūken knew so much while being directly involved in so little. He gestured to speak but closed his mouth quietly, deciding against it.

Kūkaku's caught the man's bewilderment and her eyebrows rose. "Mind if I ask you a personal question?"

Uryū hesitated. "That would depend on how personal."

"Alright, how close of a relationship do you have with your father?"

For Uryū, that was a tricky question. He knows he loves his father definitely, he is a part of Ryūken and the man also raised him. He also knows it's possible to want to love a person from afar because you can't stand them. From his earliest recollection he could remember how tyrannical, controlling, conniving and distant his father was. He didn't believe Ryūken was always that way, maybe it started after his mother died but he was so young he couldn't be sure. It still didn't excuse the things his father has done or how he could be so cold. As a result they grew further apart his teen years and it's only gotten worse since then. They can hardly have conversations without the use of a mediator. The easy answer would be to say they're not close at all, but it was complicated, and quite frankly not the business of a stranger.

Instead of answering the question Uryu returned with one of his own. "Why do you ask?"

When Kūkaku started to speak, her attention was adverted as Yoruichi returned to the office with an announcement. "I'm picking up something," she stated, watching the screen of a tablet as she approached the desk.

Kūkaku glared up at Nnoitra. "I thought you said you checked for bugs."

Nnoitra glowered, but before he could argue, Yoruichi put up her hand up to halt any possible bickering. "It's not in this room, so it's not Uryū. It's distant," she showed the screen of the tablet to Kūkaku. "I don't think it's inside the building at all. I'll go check it out."

Kūkaku nodded as Yoruichi left the office once more and disappeared into the main room of the store. She then sighed and crossed her arms under her bust. "I'll cut to the point. I'm aware of the incident that took place between you and Grimmjow and I want to apologize. I won't stand here and pretend to know what was going through Grimmjow's mind that day but I do know it hadn't helped he watched his mother get murdered the night prior."

Uryū's jaw nearly dropped. Confusion hit, which was immediately followed by remorse. He was under the impression Grimmjow's mother disappeared and died years ago. He could only imagine how deep his insults stung if her death wasn't even a day old and he was a spectator to it. "I wasn't aware." He quietly admitted. The accusation Grimmjow made that Ryūken was responsible for his mother's death echoed in his mind. At the time he thought the man nothing but a delusional lunatic. Now he was becoming disturbed by the connecting dots.

Kūkaku tried to keep her expression neutral. What she failed to mention with the apology is she was only sorry the incident involved those two respectively. She wasn't sorry Grimmjow knocked him out after hearing the comment that was made about his deceased mother. "I tried contacting your father," she said, "but our lines of communication have been cut. I know it's not a coincidence. He has always been protective of you, which is understandable as he's your father. I'd rather talk this matter over before things gets too out of control. Your father and I have known each other for a long time now. It would be unfortunate if we could no longer conduct business because of this incident."

Uryū nodded. "I'm open to communicating but I can't speak on my father's behalf. As you've known him a long time you should also know how anchored he is in a decision once he's made up his mind."

"I understand. Since I can no longer communicate with Ryūken I don't know what kind of decisions or conclusions he's come to. It would be helpful to know if he's said anything regarding Grimmjow's actions, or the rest of us. If you weren't aware I've been in Grimmjow's life since he was a child. I'm more than his employer, we're family." Kūkaku then searched Uryū for a reaction and noticed the man appeared worried.

Before she could question it, Yoruichi returned holding a small device between her index finger and thumb. "Guess where I found this gem." She said, handing it to Kūkaku and dusting off the dirt that now streaked her dark jeans and jacket. She didn't wait for speculation before continuing. "It's a tracking device that was attached to the underside of Nnoi's Hummer. It was active."

Nnoitra stared at the device in awe. "The fuck? I don't know shit 'bout it."

"Have you noticed anyone tailing you?" asked Kūkaku.

Nnoitra shook his head. "Ain't like I been payin' attention to some shit like that. I got one good eye and I keep it on the road. Grimm gets stalkers, not me."

"He wouldn't see anyone tailing him because they'd have no need." inserted Yoruichi. "You could drive to another coast and that thing would still give away your location." With a raised brow Yoruichi gave Kūkaku a knowing look. "Doesn't it look familiar?"

Kūkaku studied the device, only vaguely noting anything familiar about it. "I can't say,"

Yoruichi took position of the gadget once more. "Remember when we first got started and needed tracking devices to keep tabs on our dope boys? Ryūken sent over a box as a gift. We used those until deciding it was wiser to invest in our own. That looks just like the ones we were gifted. Get my drift?"

The room became silent and everyone turned and looked at Uryū.

The man looked mortified. "I know nothing about that thing." He said defensively. "I have never even laid eyes on such an apparatus before."

"Yeah," said Nnoitra, agreeing. "My baby can be trusted, he wouldn't plant nothin’ like that on me."

Kūkaku remembered how confused Uryū looked when she questioned him about transmitters. She believed his reaction to be genuine. Ryūken wouldn't share this aspect with his son as she would gamble every cent she owned on betting he used the same devices to also monitor Uryū. Ryūken and his son aren't very close, she knew that without Uryū answering the question. Ryūken isn't candid about his personal life, although he had made a comment about his child being unfit to take over one day in regard to the future of their business interactions. Uryū and his father may look alike, but are not of the same character.

She hoped their differences would work in her favor. So once again, Kūkaku asked the question, "Has Ryūken said anything concerning Grimmjow or the rest of us?"

"Well…" Uryū began to speak but was hesitant. The files on Ryūken's desk flashed in his mind. He noticeably became rigid then felt Nnoitra caressing his hand. It only made him feel worse. How do you tell a person they're on someone's hit list? He looked to Nnoitra, as if the man could provide some answers.

"It's cool, baby. Speak yer mind." Nnoitra encouraged. "Ya know these my peoples. Anything you'd tell me you can tell them."

"You care about Nnoitra, right?" asked Yoruichi.

"Of course I do!" Uryū replied, indignant. She could question anything she wanted, but how he feels about Nnoitra was not up for debate.

"Alright," Yoruichi took a step closer to the glasses wearer. "so in your experience why do you think your father had a tracker placed on Nnoitra's truck?"

Uryū grabbed a hold of Nnoitra's arm and hugged it for dear life. What purpose would his father have in tracking his boyfriend's movements unless he planned on harming him too? He ached suddenly like experiencing the pain of loss. His sole purpose of wanting to end his relationship with Nnoitra was to spare him his father's wrath. He blinked back tears imagining Nnoitra disappearing like the man from his previous relationship.

"He wants Grimmjow dead." Uryū blurted. "My father said he will kill him for what he did. I saw a picture of you, too, Ms. Kūkaku."

"It's just Kūkaku." She corrected, pushing her bangs back but expressing nothing. She wasn't shocked, knowing Ryūken she already figured as much. The confirmation was all she needed.

Uryū turned to the taller man next to him and placed his hands on his chest. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea my father would go so far. I thought if I-"

Nnoitra pulled the shorter man against him, muffling his words. "It's all good, babe."

Uryū clung to him, buried his face against his shirt and almost forget they weren't alone until someone cleared their throat. He peered over the embrace and saw the golden eyes staring at him.

"Was there anything else of note he mentioned?" Yoruichi probed.

"No." Uryū assured. "I didn't see a picture of you or Nnoitra although I wouldn't count on that meaning anything."

Yoruichi nodded understanding then looked to Kūkaku and had another wordless exchange before once again leaving for another room.

Kūkaku looked at her wrist and noted the late hour displayed on her watch. "I appreciate you speaking with me, Uryū."

"Sure, it was no problem." he paused, "May I ask, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know." She said that truthfully as she hadn't yet planned her next move. And even if she had, she wasn't planning on disclosing it.

"Nnoitra is very important to me and I don't want any harm to come to him, you or Yoruichi. Grimmjow, either. We're obviously not on the best terms right now but my father is being extreme. I would like to help resolve this so no one gets hurt so I'll do what I can."

Kūkaku smiled and extended her hand to Uryū. "Thank you."

Uryū accepted, nodding.

"It's late, babe," said Nnoitra, "we headin' out but I need’a talk to Auntie first. Wait for me out by the Hummer."

Uryū did as asked and left the office without question.

Kūkaku watched the man leave, having a better understand of what Ryūken meant by saying his son would be unfit to take over his business. Uryū has empathy, whereas she was nearly certain Ryūken is a sociopath. It was also evident Uryū's been sheltered from their way of life. The matter would get resolved, but the probability of no one getting hurt was zero to none. She didn't want to go to war, but knowing Ryūken it was kill or be killed and she was determined to protect her own. She only hoped Uryū wouldn't get caught up in the fray. He seemed like a nice guy and she could appreciate anyone who made her nephew so happy.

Uryū tried the doors on the Hummer only to discover they were locked. He was tired and that conversation only helped to drain him. He didn't want to think anymore. He only wanted a shower and his bed. When he heard the bell atop the shops door ring he turned around, expecting Nnoitra. The tall man sauntered towards him until they were about a foot apart. Uryū opened his mouth to speak when Nnoitra unexpectedly dropped to one knee, becoming almost equal in height.

Uryū looked him up and down. "What are you doing?"

"I'm doin' what I shoulda been done. I don't know what kinda bullshit games ya think I'm on but I'm serious 'bout you. Bout us."

"It's not that I don't think you're serious, it's just so much is going on right now." Uryū wavered on asking the next question, but knew it was something that would bother him until getting an answer. "Tell me, why did you leave me the day of the altercation? I know you've know Grimmjow longer and-"

"I've known him long ‘nough to know when he's pissed he's crazy as fuck. Ain't no way in hell I was gonna trust 'im to leave on his own and not come back. My job was makin' sure the threat to you was gone. I knew Orange was gon' handle the rest."

"I see. That makes sense." Uryū exhaled, hating that he even entertained what was nothing more than his father's manipulation tactics. "I knew you didn't abandon me."

"Knew I ain't what?" Nnoitra grabbed Uryū by his arms, looking at him like he was a donut short of a dozen. "Ya know me better than that. I lost count of the number of sleepless nights, up thinkin' 'bout you and hoping you were aight. I damn near lost my fuckin' mind when-" Nnoitra stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he took his ranting too far. "Look, baby, after what happened I realized I ain't tryna lose ya. Got me fucked up, but I guess that's what happens when ya fall in love."

Uryū's heart was hammering to the point he swore his chest visibly shook from the intensity. Guilt pinched at him but happiness in turned eased the sting. "I love you, too."

A splitting grin spread across Nnoitra's face. "I know. That makes this easier." He reached in his pocket, pulled out a small black box and pulled back the hinged top.

Uryū's mouth hung open after seeing the large, squared diamond set in white gold and framed by additional smaller diamonds and sapphires. Words escaped him as he bent down to get a better look at the ring.

Nnoitra broke the silence since Uryū hadn't done anything other than gawk. "Ya know what I wanna hear. I gotta spell it out or are ya gonna give me an answer?"

"This… This is absolutely stunning." Uryū commented.

"Nothin' but the best for my baby. That ain't the answer I'm waitin' on, though. Ya wanna make me the happiest muthafucka on the planet or…" he trailed off, not wanting to mention the only other option.

Uryū snapped out of his diamond induced shock and a frown formed. His heart eased into doing a pep-less waltz to a melancholic symphony and it was the most depressing thing he ever felt. He encased Nnoitra's hand in his and closed the ring box. "We can't, Nnoi."

Nnoitra watched him with a raised brow. "Yer really tryna break up? Be real."

Uryū was afraid he would be akin to a jinx if he stayed with Nnoitra. He wished he could be selfish and ignore everything happening right now, but to feel so detrimental to a person you care about was all the more reason to do what he thought to be right. "I'm afraid that-"

"Bullshit." Nnoitra cut in. "Love knows no fear."

"It does when you're afraid of losing who you love!" Uryū snapped. He was beginning to become frustrated. Not so much with Nnoitra as he was with the situation. He cupped Nnoitra's face and stared into his eyes. "I don't want this any more than you do but my father is dangerous. I love you too much to risk something happening to you. So right now I have to say no. We can't be together while my father is seeking to kill your friends and family. This isn't up for debate."

Realizing he couldn't argue against Uryū's reasoning, Nnoitra dropped his head in defeat. He would've suggested they skip town until everything blew over, but there was no way he'd ever leave his Aunt and the rest to fend alone. He wanted to believe things would work out eventually and in the meantime they could go back to being a happy couple. At best he was hopeful, at worst delusional. He stuck his hand in his pocket to return the rejected ring then looked up with a grin. "Two warrin' houses. This is like some Romeo and Juliet type shit."

Uryū smiled and played in the dark stands of Nnoitra's hair. "More like Romeo and Julian."

Nnoitra stood and tried to be positive despite their current problems. "When we're past this fuckery I'll propose again. Best believe it's gon' be in a public place and when you least expect. Then I'll play loud ass music in the background and trust, I'll make ya dance."

Uryū covered his face, embarrassed from just the thought. "You know I hate attention."

Nnoitra leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Too damn bad. Now hop ya fine ass..." Nnoitra found himself distracted as he heard the sound of a motor in the distance. When looking towards the road, he began to scowl.

Uryū turned over his shoulder and saw the dark colored jeep speeding up the road. "They're obviously in a rush. It's awfully late. Is the shop still accepting customers?"

"Nah," said Nnoitra, wearily watching the oncoming vehicle. "The shop don't get customers."

"What do you mean?" uncertainty was evident as Uryū glanced over his shoulder at the jeep again.

Nnoitra ignored his question. "Go back inside." He instructed, speaking low like he was afraid someone else might hear.

"Why? I thought we were leaving."

Without warning, Uryū found himself being lifted and carried princess style towards the shop.

"Nnoitra?" Uryū didn't understand the man's sudden urgency or change in plans. Though as perplexing as that was, the way the jeep barreled towards them was far more alarming. They reached the entry door although Nnoitra struggled to open it while holding the other man. The arm grasping Uryū's legs released to let him stand on his own, but he still held him close. The vehicle came to a screeching halt at the same moment Nnoitra swung the glass door open.

A push forced Uryū inside the building. He hadn't a moment's chance to comprehend anything when Nnoitra threw his arms around him so tightly his lungs rejected him trying to inhale. His lack of ability to breathe quickly slipped his mind when what sounded like a close succession of fireworks assaulted his ears. He felt Nnoitra jerk against him before he threw their bodies into a clothes rack off to the side away from the door.

Uryū hissed when his back painfully took the brunt of the hit to the rack and he landed on the floor with Nnoitra sprawled on top of him. He struggled to move, still stunned from being thrown around. The thought the jeep may have collided with something and caused an explosion crossed his mind until another round of the loud popping noise blared just outside the door, scaring his heart into doing palpitations. It was then that he placed the noise as gunfire. He had never heard it in person before and it was far louder and piercing than he ever imagined.

He relinquished his ability to think, squeezed his eyes shut and fright made him shake uncontrollably. The only comfort he found in that moment was when Nnoitra crawled a few inches up his body to cradle his upper half and nuzzle his face against his hair. When there was a break in the gunfire his ears picked up what sounded like heavy boots stomping on broken glass. His eyes eased open, and although his vision limited, blocked from being under Nnoitra, he viewed enough to see someone walking through the busted frame where the glass door once stood. Uryū verified the combat boots firsts, then his eyes traveled up the person's darkly clothed legs, stopping when he saw the assault rifle hanging from their hand. While he trembled in terror, his eyes darted up to the persons face and it only took a glance to realize it was a thug employed by his father. They stared at each other and the man looked equally as surprised.

Although the man didn't have his gun raised, Uryū found himself jumping, frightened by two more shots being fired consecutively. The man clutched his neck and stumbled backwards out the building. That's when Uryū saw Yoruichi advancing towards the door with a gun drawn and she fired again. She didn't seem no notice them on the floor when she leaned against the frame and peered out the door, glancing from side to side before advancing through it.

Despite being stunned, Uryū was alert enough to realize it wasn't a good idea to remain in the open. He could hear a gun battle taking place outside and tried to sit up but the man on top of him wouldn't budge. "Nnoi, we have to move." He said, although Nnoitra made no effort to do so. "Nnoitra," he said again and patted his lover’s back. When he felt how wet the shirt was, he yanked away and saw the red painting his hand. Anxiety exploded like tiny needle pricks and he looked at his hand like it didn't belong to his body. "N-Nnoi?" he whispered, though the man was close enough to hear him he didn't respond.

Uryū scrambled, using his legs to carefully push from under Nnoitra to get free. Kneeling next him, the first thing to catch his eyes were the two holes through the back of Nnoitra's blood soaked shirt. A knot formed in his stomach and he felt dizzy enough to faint. He bent, face to face with Nnoitra and could tell the man breathed although it gave him not an ounce of relief. His quivering hand pushed the hair out of Nnoitra's face and he caressed his cheek. "Nnoi, sweetheart, stay with me." He said, voice breaking as his eyes welled up with tears.

He stalled, unsure what to do next and the feeling of personal contempt for being so useless at a time like this eroded his self-worth. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think when he heard someone curse and he looked up. Kūkaku stood over them, looking down at Nnoitra with wide-eyes. She clutched a gun at her side, the weapon shook in her trembling hand but she managed to quickly pull it together and tucked the gun away at the back of her jeans.

"Is he still breathing?" she asked, although she knelt down to check herself.

"Yes," Uryū replied, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears blurring his vision and collecting at the base of his glasses.

"Help me get him in the back," she instructed.

Uryū hurried to his feet and they carefully but quickly drug him into the office.

Yoruichi came running in from a back door. She released the empty clip in her gun, letting it drop to the floor, and shoved a fresh one in behind it. "I took two down but I think more may come." Her breathing was labored as she looked both ways out the door before shutting it. She snapped her head around when seeing Uryū out the corner of her eye then her view gravitated to Nnoitra. She looked horrified upon seeing the man's state and bolted to his side, squatting down next to him. While she checked his vitals Kūkaku sprang to a door and rummaged through what appeared to be a closet. She retrieved a large medical bag, unzipped it and dumped the contents across her desk.

Yoruichi lifted up Nnoitra's shirt and grimaced, then turned to Kūkaku with the bleak expression as she spoke. "K, it doesn't look good."

"I already fucking know that," she replied sharply and it couldn't be missed how her voice shook with uncertainty. Her hands swept through the contents on her desk and she visibly became frustrated when unable to find what she was looking for.

Yoruichi assisted her, snatching up a sealed, opaque plastic pouch that had fell on the floor and a small pair of pointed scissors. The pouch was handed to Kūkaku and Yoruichi used the scissors to slice open the back of Nnoitra's shirt.

Uryū gasped when he saw the severity of the wounds and turned away. One hand clutched Nnoitra's and the other clutched at his own chest in an attempt to soothe the ache that felt like his heart was being ripped from his body.

Kūkaku's hands shook as she opened the pouch of blood clotting power. She rushed to Yoruichi's side and they proceeded to pack the wounds to stop the bleeding.

"I don't know how much blood he's lost, but hopefully…." Kūkaku's last word drifted off into a sigh. "Let's get him outside, I'll take him."

"No," Yoruichi disagreed. "you're too unstable. I'll go and you take care of the shop."

Kūkaku didn't waste time debating and nodded. She ran back to the closet and found a blanket that she then spread out on the floor next to Nnoitra. Uryū helped them shift the man to the blanket and proceeded to pull him to the back door.

Kūkaku eyed Uryū dismissively. "Stay,"

Uryū didn't budge from Nnoitra's side. "I need to be with him."

Kūkaku glared and just barely kept her tone below a shout. "Where he's going you cannot come. It was your people that did this to him. If he makes it I won't allow you to put him in any further danger."

Uryū stopped cold in his tracks. Those words pinned him in place like his feet were nailed to the floor. A new wave of tears filled his eyes and began to slide down his cheeks. What he ultimately tried to avoid and his most haunting nightmare had become reality. "Is he going to be alright?" he was unsure he truly wanted the answer to that question but they seemed to know more about gunshot wounds than he did.

Kūkaku said nothing. Yoruichi met his gaze and the pessimistic frown she gave had Uryū realize it was a question he probably shouldn't have asked. His hand slid along the wall for balance as his legs threatened to lose their ability to keep him upright. The two women with Nnoitra disappeared through the door. After a few moments Kūkaku returned alone and didn't even look in Uryū's direction.

"Were you hurt?" she asked, standing with her back to the man.

"No, Nnoitra protected me." He clasped his hand over his mouth to contain the sob that tried to expel.

"We have to clear out of here." Kūkaku's tone had softened. "I need you to help me carry a few things."

Uryū sniffed, wiped at his eyes and nodded, not thinking the woman wasn't looking to see the non-verbal response. Swiftly Kūkaku left the office with Uryū on her heels. Once reaching a door on the other side of the store, she pulled out a key to release the lock. Inside were stacks of boxes and several duffel bags. The dark-haired woman stacked two of the boxes to carry then her head jerked towards the bags. "Grab those,"

Uryū did as asked and followed as Kūkaku made her way to yet another door and this one led to the outside. The back seat of a gray, Range Rover was where Kūkaku stuffed the boxes and pointed so Uryū knew to do the same with the bags. When everything was secure Kūkaku jumped in the driver's seat and motioned for Uryū to get in the passengers.

She started the vehicle and pulled around to the front of the building. When she slowed, Uryū took in the sight of the man just outside the entry door lying in a puddle of blood, the lower half of a second body not in full view, a black, jeep Wrangler and Nnoitra's Hummer riddled with bullets. He snapped his head away from the scene and wrapped his arms around his torso, wishing to tame feelings of nausea and anguish. As the SUV dragged to a stop just outside the road, he looked over at Kūkaku and saw her pressing buttons on a device that resembled an early model Blackberry cell phone.

"Put your seatbelt on and don't be alarmed," Kūkaku said, as she sat the device on her lap and turned on the dirt road.

Although he did what she asked and clicked the seatbelt in place, Uryū didn't understand why he would be alarmed. When the car abruptly jerked forward and she began speeding along the road he braced in his seat. What he wasn't ready for was the near ear shattering explosion that shook the car and nearly stopped his heart. Gripping his chest, he spun in his seat to see the hellish ball of fire and smoke that mushroomed towards the sky. He could barely distinguish Antiquated and what was still standing was covered in flames. In disbelief he glanced at Kūkaku but she kept her eyes on the road as if all were normal. Anxious, distraught and tired, Uryū sunk low in his seat while feeling entirely too close to having a nervous break-down.

The unfamiliar surroundings held no interest for Uryū. He had too much on his mind to care where they were headed. It wasn't until a garage door opened and Kūkaku pulled inside did he wonder where she had taken him.

"Do you have a phone or anything on you?" Kūkaku asked.

Uryū shook his head no. "We left so suddenly I forgot it at home."

She was glad warning him against contacting anyone while in her home was unnecessary. There is enough tension as is. "Alright, let's go inside while I figure shit out."

They entered the house from the garage and Kūkaku soon vanished from Uryū's line of sight. He stood alone in the kitchen surrounded by stainless steel from counters to appliances. The coldness of it made him uncomfortable and he left the space, walking into the living room. He spotted the tan sectional sofa and went for it, stepping around a glass coffee table to sit down. Normally he wouldn't take a seat in someone else's home without first being offered, but he wasn't sure he could stand much longer.

Uryū's dropped his head to his lap and hugged his knees, wanting to curl into a ball. He needed to have faith that Nnoitra would survive. "Please," he whispered as his eyes watered. He wasn't sure who he was pleading to and wasn't religious. That moment, however, he was willing to beg any higher power that could intervene and ensure Nnoitra came back to him.

Uryū felt the sofa dip and sat up. Kūkaku sat next to him holding a glass bottle containing brown liquor and two shot glasses. She sat everything on the coffee table, poured the shots and offered one to the glasses wearer. Uryū didn't think twice about accepting the alcohol and downed the shot in one gulp.

"Honestly," Kūkaku began. "I want to hate you for no other reason than who your father is."

Uryū understood her enmity and if in her position would feel the same way. "I'm beginning to hate myself for who my father is."

"Other than when my nephew had his rebellious streak as a teen, he never goes against my wishes." Kūkaku looked Uryū over as if studying a newly discovered creature. "You, however, are a different story. After I found out who you are I told him to end the relationship before he got hurt. His response was that my words were a contradiction, because the only way he would get hurt is if he ended the relationship."

Sorrow rippled through Uryū upon her disclosure. "I understand that you are weary of me because of what my father has done, but I am nothing like him and can say with every ounce of my being that I love Nnoitra. To the point I was willing to forgo our happiness to ensure he would be safe. Today…" Uryū felt the control over his emotions slipping and a tear slid down his cheek. "Today was never supposed to happen."

Kūkaku's mouth tensed in a straight line as she poured herself a second shot. "I know you have no control over Ryūken's actions, just like I have no control over Grimmjow's actions. I like to think if we both could have prevented this from either end, we would have. I also know how Nnoitra feels about you. He wouldn't care for someone so strongly who didn't have the same love for him, so I believe you. I'm sure Nnoitra will be fine and you'll be the first person he wants to see." She swallowed the second shot and left the glass on the coffee table as she stood and walked out the room.

It wasn't until Kūkaku left did Uryū realized he appreciated the company. Alone with nothing but worry, he tried to dilute any negative thoughts with positive ones. Like when he would get the chance to tell Nnoitra how much he loved him, and wanted to accept his proposal. He couldn't wait for today to be nothing but a faded memory. He wasn't sure how long he sat, but it felt like an eternity had passed when the front door opened and Yoruichi appeared. He anxiously met the woman's eyes that were notably red and swollen. He couldn't miss how beat she looked, like a boulder sized weight sat on her shoulders and would crush her at any given moment. The way she silently regarded him made matters worse. The air around Uryū was beginning to feel so thick he could hardly breathe. The question he desperately needed an answer to went unsaid. He was too afraid to ask.

Kūkaku entered the living room and nervously stared at Yoruichi, hands clenched at her sides. The room was plagued with a dreadful silence and instead of breaking it like the others expected her too, Yoruichi dropped her gaze to the oak floor. She said nothing.

Kūkaku ran to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. She shook the woman and searched her face for answers. "Say something!"

Yoruichi gently pulled Kūkaku in a hugging embrace and spoke in a whisper. "I'm sorry, K. Nnoi didn't make it."

Kūkaku jerked away from the other woman, glaring at her in disbelief. She snatched the bottle of alcohol off the coffee table and threw it against the wall, the glass shattering violently. With her hand covering her mouth she spun away from the two and quickly stormed out the room. Yoruichi ran after her.

Uryū sat in a daze trying to fully interpret Yoruichi's words. Every time they repeated in his mind, they were rejected and trying to accept what she said felt like reality shifted around him. Yelling voices drifted into the living room but the sound seemed numbed in his ears. His chest felt so tight he feared his next breath would cause it to cave in. When nausea overtook him, the moment he tried to stand the room spun and faded to black.

Uryū opened his eyes and the span of a wood floor was the first thing he focused on. As he sat up his back bumped the coffee table and he realized he must have fainted. His head was beginning to ache but physically he wasn't injured. Emotionally he felt like he was concealing a bomb that would detonate at any moment.

Yoruichi re-entered the room and noticed the man on the floor. She didn't make mention of it but did look at him with pity. "It would be best if I took you back to your side of town." She said.

It wasn't until struggling to stand did Uryū realize how the distress was taking over his body. With Yoruichi's aid, he made it to his feet. "Thank y-" he began, but his voice broke too badly to continue speaking.

She nodded and quietly walked to the door, turning only to make sure Uryū followed her outside to her vehicle. The entire ride was silent until the car rolled over train tracks.

"Where am I taking you?" Yoruichi asked.

Uryū provided the address and they continued riding until slowing to a stop in front of his home. He opened his mouth to thank her but she raised her hand to signal him it wasn't necessary, seeming to know what he wanted to convey.

As the man motioned to leave, she offered some parting advice. "Uryū, I'd advise you to involve yourself minimally from here on out. Kūkaku is a force to be reckoned with when pissed off, but we are only a threat to those that are a threat to us. From what I understand, you told K that Nnoi protected you. Ryūken's people, your people, were shooting recklessly and you could have also been a victim. You can draw your own conclusion regarding that. Nnoi wouldn't have wanted…" Yoruichi hands shook as she intensely gripped the steering wheel and her gaze drifted towards the street. "I'll just say it would be unfortunate for another innocent to lose their life."

Uryū nodded as he left for his front door, his wrecked emotions only enabling partial comprehension of her words. His hands slid along the pockets of his pants for keys, although once reaching the door he found it unlocked from unexpectedly leaving earlier. That meant Ichigo hadn't returned home and he would be alone. The idea of being by himself during a time like this didn't sit well, but if he could just make it to his room he would figure out how to cope from there. Once inside he didn't make it two steps before his legs nearly buckled under him. His hands balled into painfully tight fists at his side and his whole body shook as he tried to take another step. He saw the stairs ahead and envisioned his lover easily scooping him up in his arms and carrying him up them.

"Nnoi…." Uryū murmured and trying to inhale turned to desperate pants. The pain of anguish made it difficult to breathe and in delusions of despair it was like he could feel Nnoitra rubbing his back as comfort. It was a fleeting feeling that only helped him grasp that his lover is gone. With a hard thud Uryū weakly dropped to his knees. The emotional bomb had finally detonated. A strained, grief-stricken shout tore from his throat and ended in a sob. He dropped to his hands and pounded the floor with his fist, weeping uncontrollably until his body could do nothing more than collapse completely against the wood. Tears continued to fall until he could cry no more. Drained, he laid there with no energy to move or keep his eyes open.


	20. Chapter 20

Grimmjow slid his fingers down his bare, taut belly and hooked his thumbs at the waist of his boxer briefs. He pulled the fabric down just above revealing his penis and carefully inspected the area. He released the elastic band, letting it snap back in place and with a frown eyed the contents laid out across the king-sized bed. The sheathed hunting knife was obviously going to be too big, so the switchblade it will be. Pushing his underwear to bunch at his thighs, with an alcohol swab he wiped the freshly shaved pubic area, getting rid of any excess body oil. He grabbed a roll of duck tape off the bed and tore a piece with his teeth. Sticking the switchblade on the middle of the tape, he then secured it at his pelvis.

The thought of anything sharp near his dick made him cringe. However, when he thought about the only other place he could hide the weapon, it put him more at ease. Pulling up his undergarment, he then tried to adjust his penis to lay in the opposite direction of where the knife was taped, just to be safe.

Not far from where he stood, the bathroom door opened to release a steamy gust of air. The person emerging was not happy.

"Those nasty, wiry lookin' little blue hairs 'round the sink had better not come from where I think they did. My toothbrush was up there. Triflin' bastard." Freshly out the shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, Renji stopped in the middle of the floor when he saw Grimmjow's moving hand down the front of his underwear.

Grimmjow glanced up at him. "Enjoyin' the show, muthafucka?"

"Do I need to leave and give you and yer hand some privacy?" While Grimmjow's personality is a turn-off, it would be a bold-faced lie if Renji didn't admit he wouldn't mind watching or said Grimmjow didn't have a tempting body. As a man attracted to other men, he couldn't ignore the sexy defined abs, built chest and arms, muscular thighs and from what he could see, impressive bulge. The nicely presented exterior almost made him forget why he and the other male weren't exactly friendly. Although none of that was important, because whether they liked each other or not they were co-workers and cooperation is a must. Renji saw Grimmjow still struggling with his adjustment and jokingly offered aid. "Need some help? Or are ya gettin' off on jerkin' that shit?"

Grimmjow shot him the most disgusted glare. "Come near my dick and yer gonna lose a hand."

Renji chuckled, though when he got a good look at the array of weapons spread across the bed he sobered. If Grimmjow really wanted to take his hand off, it would be an easy task. It seemed like Gin had provided them with every type of knife known to man. This job involved a hit, but guns were off limits. Considering he had his own assignment, he would leave that element for Grimmjow to figure out. Walking to the other side of the room where his bed was located, Renji dropped his towel and began to dress in his assigned outfit.

Once fitting into what's supposed to be his undergarment and eyeing the ensemble, he cursed under his breath. This was definitely a new low for him, but bearing in mind Gin's payouts he wasn't about to complain. A job is a job and he would perform it to the best of his ability. By the time he finished putting on all his clothes, a black dress shirt, gold tie, black trousers and black, leather Gucci loafers, Grimmjow had finished dressing as well. He had on a trim cut black suit with a white collared shirt, silver striped tie and black lace-up Oxfords.

Hair pulled back in a ponytail, Renji released the tie, shaking his head to loosen the tresses falling to hang waist length down his back. Grabbing bobby pins, a brush and hair spray from his bag, he prepared to style his hair. Before getting started, he looked over the array of items on Grimmjow's bed, picking a mini stun gun from the assortment. Brushing out the long, red, locks, he decided a man bun would look the least conspicuous in hiding the gun and began rolling the item into his hair. With the bobby pins he secured the style then examined it in the mirror.

"Grimmjow, how's my hair in the back? Is the stun gun showin'?" Renji asked

Packing up the items on the bed, Grimmjow only glanced his way. "Fix the bottom."

"Bruh, I ain't got eyes in the back of my head. Can ya fix it for me?"

Grimmjow sucked his teeth and continued to pack the bag. "Best figure that shit out. What I look like doin' a grown man's hair? The fuck?"

Renji sighed. "Aight, don't, and fuck up our cover before we even get there. I know we got our lil territorial beef but that shit's gettin' old. I'm 'bout to be straight-laced, so we need to put the petty shit behind us. We're workin' together and have to be a team whether yer with it or not."

Before Renji realized it, Grimmjow was standing behind him in the mirror, looking like he was ready to strangle him. The thug snatched the bobby pins and began adjusting Renji's hair to obscure the item placed there. "What'd ya mean, 'bout to be straight-laced?" he asked out of curiosity.

"I mean I'm done runnin' the streets. Ain't jacked a car in a minute and after the ones in storage are gone, I'm done. I'm workin' with Gin 'til he sets me up with somethin' legit, like legal legit. I've seen enough of my peoples get locked up or killed to know this ain't the life to live if ya wanna reach retirement age. 'Less ya luck up and sell yer ass to a rich muthafucka like Gin did, ain't no future in this shit."

Grimmjow pondered upon Renji's words. They both grew up in the hood and all they knew were the streets. The thought of pursuing anything outside of them seemed foreign, yet Renji was making moves to see it happen. Since faced with the possibility of everyone close to him coming to harm, Grimmjow questioned the path in life he's chosen. It also put the future of his relationship with Ichigo into perspective. They're still so different, being he's a drug dealer while Ichigo is living an honest life and pursuing a degree. Realistically, he couldn't see Ichigo wanting a future with him once it came time to focus on a career. While he would always stay true to himself, he wondered if it were possible to do so while living less dangerously. He never fathomed being with Ichigo would have him questioning his future, but then again he also never fathomed being with anyone like Ichigo.

"Ouch!" Renji yelped when Grimmjow dug his scalp with a pin. "The fuck are ya doin' back there?"

Lost in thought, Grimmjow had become absent minded. "Stop bitchin' or fix it yerself. Shit can't get no gayer than this."

Renji stared at the man's reflection with a raised eyebrow. "Ain't ya fuckin' the orange-haired pretty boy? What's his name? Ichigo? C'mon, bruh, gettin' it in with another dude, it don't get no gayer than that."

Grimmjow's face twisted angrily. "Keep his name out yer fuckin' mouth 'less ya wanna lose teeth."

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me." Renji raised his hands defensively and tried not to laugh. "Lemme find out yer on some Usher shit and got it bad. Hope one day I meet the one that makes me wanna threaten a muthafucka over just sayin' his name. Damn."

Grimmjow's expression softened, becoming somewhat amused. "Ikkaku?"

"Chill," said Renji, frowning. "that's my homeboy. Mr. Clean can't do shit for me in that department."

Grimmjow chuckled and put the finishing touches on Renji's hair. "Yer good. 'Bout time to go."

Renji stared at his image in the mirror and decided he looked satisfactory. With spray he set the style so Grimmjow and he could be on their way.

-o8o-

With his arms and legs spread, Renji allowed the strangers hands to travel up his legs and thighs, crotch, abdomen and arms. The stern-looking man then did the same to Grimmjow, patting him down thoroughly before allowing them through the door. When they entered the penthouse they stood atop walnut wood flooring. The spacious room was furnished with modern décor and they couldn't miss the floor to ceiling windows. Being up sixteen stories gave an exceptionally remarkable view of the bright city lights that glittered across the night sky like a collection of curated gems. Too bad they weren't there to just sightsee.

Across the room behind a glass bar top, a notably burly, older man stood. His hair was fully grayed, including his thick mustache and eyebrows. He had a wide scar across the right of his eye and a similar looking one down the left of his chin. He glanced at the men as they entered, but hadn't spoken a word. Rumbling a cocktail shaker, he then poured the contents in an ice-filled drinking glass. With his beverage in hand, he stepped from the bar in slip on loafers, dark slacks and a white button down shirt. He looked the men over.

"Gin sent two instead of one?" he asked. "He knows I'm too old for that shit now."

Renji stepped forward. He wasn't sure what the man was told, but would stick to the scrip he was given. "Nah, it's just me."

The man sighed as he plopped down in a plush reclining chair. "What's your purpose, then?" he pointed his chin at Grimmjow.

"I'm his bodyguard." Grimmjow replied. Having been briefed on the assignment he knew his role was to act as Renji's security, who in turn was acting as a very pricey escort.

The man snorted a laugh and then took a sip from his class. "You must be highly sought after if you need a bodyguard." He directed at Renji. "If you're so popular why haven't I seen you before?"

Renji had never escorted a day in his life and was made aware this particular client is well acquainted with the individuals employed under Gin. So he knew the question was coming and had his lie prepared. "I'm one of Gin's newer hires. I had problems with a client. This muthaf-" Renji cleared his throat, trying his hardest to sound more professional. "This gentleman, I mean, he became quite fond to the point of harassin'. For my safety, I was assigned a guard."

The older man rolled his eyes. "What's his name?" he asked, sounding annoyed. "I'll take care of it."

Renji hesitated. "Gin says he's handlin' it."

"Which means I'll handle it. Do you know who I am?"

Renji wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't given a name, just a client. Gin was somewhat vague in explaining who said client was, but he figured since the guy was going to be killed before the end of the night it really didn't matter.

"You work for Gin, but Gin works for me. He doesn't like when I point that out because of our relationship, but it's reality. He likes to refer to me as darling, but you will call me by my name, which is Baraggan."

Grimmjow's stunned stare was so wide-eyed he thought his eyeballs would bug out of his head. He couldn't believe they've been sent to kill the man that is not only Gin's lover, but the most prominent crime boss on the coast. Gin knew exactly what he was doing by keeping such an important detail hidden, as anyone in their coherent mind would rightfully second guess undertaking a task like this. He tried to hide his surprise when Baraggan's attention shifted to him but it was too late.

"Many don't know me by face or name." said the older man. "I prefer it that way. Gin and I will chat about this client of yours," he paused. "what's your name?"

"Renji,"

"Right, Renji." Baraggan slouched in his chair and leaned his head on his fist, appearing bored. "Gin may be the face of the business but I own him so everything is mine. I need to know who is fucking with my merchandise and unless he's willing to buy you outright, I don't need anyone playing games with my money."

Although Renji was playing a role, he couldn't help but feel slighted at being reduced to merchandise and having a potential price tag placed on his worth. He automatically felt sympathy for anyone else who'd been subjected to this man before him. The guy clearly didn't value people as human beings.

Baraggan pulled a phone from his pocket and after a few taps with his finger a sensual, soft jazz melody began playing from background speakers. He swirled the contents in his cup, the ice clinking when it struck the glass. "Entertain me, Renji," he said, slowing eyeing him from head to toe.

Renji closed his eyes and conjured images in his mind, wanting to think of anything other than the old, nasty, bastard and his lascivious gaze perched in front of him. His thoughts drifted to one of Gin's business regulars. He didn't know the man's name, had never actually met or spoken to him, only catching glimpses of him in passing when at Gin's to see about work. He was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Long, silky black hair, perfect, lean body and the most intimidating, smoky gray eyes he's ever seen. He was always well dressed, although he would love to see what's hidden under those tailored suits. Now that was a man he’d like to strip for. With his images in mind, Renji gripped his tie, pulling the knot loose as he stalked towards Baraggan. He dropped the fabric at his feet then slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, swaying with the rhythm of the music.

Grimmjow kept Renji in his peripheral vision, but didn't actually watch the strip show. Instead he thought about his orange-headed boo, wondering what he was doing and if he too crossed his mind. He hadn't been in contact with him or anyone else since catching a flight out the city for this job. He couldn't wait for all of this to be over, because he knew right where he was going to be.

Renji had stripped down to a red thong that had a thin piece of fabric stretching up to wrap around his neck.

Baraggan leaned forward in his chair, slightly gawking and rubbing his chin. He placed his drink on a side table and released the top buttons on his shirt to reveal his upper chest and a silver chain around his neck. "Come, undress me," he instructed.

Grimmjow nearly gagged from the mental image and pushed back the look of repulsion that almost contorted his face. The thug wasn't much of an actor, but fortunately had braced himself as he was told it was necessary to be phlegmatic if he witnessed questionable things. He had begun to zone out, though his attention was abruptly alerted with a sharp slapping noise and Renji falling backwards against the floor. He had missed whatever led up to the hit and started towards the two. When Renji turned to him with an agitated smile, shaking his head and wiping blood from his lip, the thug stopped. Grimmjow couldn't say he cared much for Renji, but in that moment he was ready to perform his required duty in this task and be finished. Typically, to end up with a fatal fate you'd have to be crazy enough to press your luck with the thug's temper. Grimmjow didn't kill for hire and wanted specifics as to why this man is wanted dead. The story Gin told was of a tyrannical monster that used his money and influence to abuse and assault, sometimes sexually, his workers. As Baraggan couldn't even control his violent urges with Renji, Grimmjow witnessed his character first-hand.

"Is there a problem?" Baraggan asked, looking at Grimmjow, amused.

Before Grimmjow could reply, Renji intervened. "We should go somewhere with more privacy, then I'll do what ya asked and take my hair down."

The older man sighed, but stood. "Very well. I suppose if he's not going to participate he doesn't deserve a free show. This way," he said as he turned and proceeded down a hall. Renji moved in stride behind him.

Grimmjow held his position, letting Renji handle his business. Knowing his co-worker is supposed to find what was taken from Gin by whatever means necessary, he was glad to avoid having a front row seat to observe whatever methods were chosen. He could also give credit where it's due. Renji exhibited a degree of patience that was as foreign to him as pig Latin. The thought of getting bitch slapped by Baraggan the way his co-worker had made his anger flare. It would've been a done deal with Baraggan dead before he realized what hit him. Renji was also pretty wise, luring Baraggan deeper into the penthouse since there's guards stationed outside the front door.

With a flick of his wrist Grimmjow checked the watch there and made note of the time. He would check on Renji in twenty minutes and in the meantime explore. He ambled though the penthouse and noticed the space didn't appear lived in. The bar was the only thing that looked used. At the end of a hall he noticed an elevator that needed a key to be operated. When this was over, that would be their way out. He had just decided to check out one of the rooms when a loud crash reached his ears. Grimmjow ran in the direction of the noise while undoing his belt to reach the knife taped under his clothes.

Showtime.

X_Y_Y_X

Bright beams of sunlight burned his corneas as he gradually opened his eyes. Closing his lids to ease the pain, he rolled over on his side, putting his back to the open blinds. His hand came up to rest on the pillow behind his head and that's when Uryū realized he was laying in bed. Confusion set in, he didn't understand how he got there. What he did remember generated a strong sensation to grieve, the nightmare he had was creeping back to haunt him. He realized he had to be in a really fucked up place mentally to dream Nnoitra had been killed. Just when he was considering calling the man to see if he were alright, a lean and tall figure appeared in his doorway. Knowing it wasn't Ichigo, he swallowed the gasp, unaware anyone was in his home as he squinted to get a better look. He could only make out an outline, as he wasn't wearing his glasses and just waking up had his vision even less stable.

"Nnoi?" Uryū whispered, trying to sit up. An ache at his back halted his movements.

"I brought you some tea. You were out cold when I came in."

Uryū's ears processed the voice and the way it irritated his drums. It sounded nothing like Nnoitra. While the figure approached his bedside, he rolled over in search of his glasses and found them on the nightstand. Fixing the lenses over his eyes, as his hand came away from his face he noticed the dark smears of dried blood on his palm. His eyes darted to the man standing over him and when Shūkurō came into view he was beginning to register that his nightmare was indeed reality.

Shūkurō sat a tray on the nightstand. "You were on the floor when I came in this morning so I carried you to bed. The floor is nowhere to catch a nap."

"Get out," Uryū said, turning his back to the man.

"OK, but I was just wondering why you were on the floor. You didn't smell drunk. Are you unwell?" Shūkurō stepped closer but Uryū Ignored him. "Hey, I'm just trying to look out for you." He placed a hand on the man's arm, shaking him gently to get his attention.

Uryū's foot shot out so quick and with so much force that Shūkurō wasn't sure what hit him when he was knocked back and fell on his ass.

"Don't touch me!" Uryū shouted. "Don't ever touch me again." He glared, eyes glistening and a tear ready to fall before he again turned his back to the man.

Shūkurō slowly rose, rubbing his thigh where Uryū's foot clubbed him. He walked around to the other side of the bed where Uryū could see him but he didn't get too close. "Uryū, did someone hurt you? I know I’m not exactly your favorite person but you can talk to me." he said in an encouraging tone. Getting on his knees at the opposite end of the bed, Shūkurō leaned on the mattress. "Did someone force themselves on you, you know…" he struggled to find his next set of words. "I don't want to say it if that's what happened…. But if anyone violated you I promise-"

"No! I wasn't sexually assaulted. Nnoitra's dead. Don't act like you don't know."

A long silence stretched before Shūkurō responded. "I swear on everything I had no idea."

Uryū gave the man a dirty look. Although Shūkurō appeared truly baffled by the news, that didn't change the fact it could be an act. "Don't give me that pathetically ignorant look." Uryū sat up on the bed to squarely glare at the other man. The soreness in his back was a reminder of how he flew into a clothes rack when Nnoitra was trying to save them. "I could have died too. My father's agenda is evident and I want nothing to do with any of you."

Another silence plagued the room and Shūkurō looked at a loss for words. "I know you haven't eaten anything. We should go catch a bite to eat."

Uryū scowled at the out of place and absurd statement. "You need to get the hell out, right now."

Shūkurō pulled out his phone and continued talking like he was immune to the tension in the atmosphere. "I've been meaning to show you this app. It shows all the new restaurants in the area. I can't believe there are so many new places I haven't seen." He placed the phone on the bed for Uryū to view.

Uryū picked up the device with the intention to throw it until he saw the display wasn't an app, but a text message. He paused and began reading.

-"Don't react, we're possibly being watched or listened to. I have information you will want to hear."-

Uryū's anger didn't lessen any when he glanced from the screen to Shūkurō. He tossed the phone to the edge of the bed and rolled over on his side, saying, "I'm tired."

"I understand. I'll give you some time and will come back in a few days. Maybe you'll feel up to going out then. I know you don’t like answering the phone when I call so I’ll write down my personal number and let you contact me. It might do you some good to get out for a bit."

Uryū waited until he heard his door shut before some of his unease lifted. He didn't know what Shūkurō was talking about and right now didn't care. The anger he felt slowly faded to sadness. He needed to get up and do something, anything to occupy his thoughts and gain a clearer state of mind. However, the idea of getting out of bed made him recoil under the covers. Everywhere he turned it reminded him of Nnoitra. Even the bed he laid in, especially the bed. He took a deep breath, hating that he would cry but knew nothing would stop the tears from coming.

The last time he lost someone significant to him he was too young to remember how he coped. He could recall crying himself to sleep many a nights once realizing his mother wasn't coming back and only over time did the pain in his heart ease to a manageable level. He hoped time alone wouldn't be the remedy to missing Nnoitra. If he were to calculate anything based on his current feelings, he imagined being stricken with debilitating grief forever. A feeling so emotionally painful that it felt physical, he couldn't imagine wishing this on his worst enemy. The fact his own father is the cause of his heartache is very telling.

In all his years, Uryū never truly realized how cold and callused his father is, until now. Rage began to smolder within him and he gripped the comforter with enough force that his nails began to rip into the cotton. Ryūken didn't have the right to take Nnoitra away, not like this. It's unforgivable. If he couldn't focus his mind on anything else he would concentrate on finding a way to make sure Ryūken paid for his transgressions. That he ensured.

X_X_-_X_X

Standing before the door, Ichigo was unsure whether to knock and initiate conversation or continue to wait in hoping their disagreement would gradually resolved itself. Since leaving to see Grimmjow, he hadn't spoken to or seen Uryū in days. Being the bigger man and approaching him first felt like the mature thing to do. Unfortunately, he was still unsure how to proceed with Uryū at this point. The only options where he foresaw civil understanding is if they respectfully agreed to disagree or if Uryū forgave Grimmjow and they moved forward from the incident. He couldn't see himself successfully presenting either scenario to see a favorable conclusion.

" _Back to the drawing board…."_ Ichigo thought and left Uryū's door untouched. Before too much time had passed, he hoped to find a solution where they could all be happy. On his way back to his room, his phone rang from his pocket. The number that appeared on screen wasn't saved as a contact but he answered nonetheless. "Hello?"

"Ichigo? Hello, how are you?"

Ichigo stopped mid-trek, surprised by the voice coming from the other end. "Gin? I'm fine, how are you?"

"Yes, Grimmjow left your number with me. I hope you don't mind. And I'm just dandy. Thanks for asking. What are you up to?"

"I'm not doin' much of anything at the moment." The conversation came off a little too casual for Ichigo and he found it hard to believe Gin simply wanted to chit chat. As much as he wanted to inquire about the true intentions of the call, he also didn't want to appear as impolite.

"Fantastic!" Gin said, enthusiasm evident. "You should come by so we can hang out."

" _Hang out?"_ Ichigo thought to himself. They hardly knew each other. He wasn't opposed to making new friends but Gin isn't the average acquaintance. "Not to be rude, but this just seems so random."

"I understand, you don't really know me but I assure you I have no malicious motives. I thought it would be less disconcerting if I invited you over this way. Actually, Grimmjow wants you over at my place because he's returning tonight."

"Really? If that's the case how come he didn't call me? Is everything OK?"

"Don't be alarmed, he was having service trouble and could only get one call through. His exact words to me were, and I quote, 'Hit up my boo and tell 'em I said bring his ass over to yer spot. He bests be there by the time I roll through.' "

Ichigo chuckled. That sounded like Grimmjow and he saw no reason why Gin needed to lie. "Alright. I'll be there in about half an hour."

"Great, just come to the same door as before. I'll see you in a bit."

After ending the call it didn't take Ichigo long to freshen up and hit the road. When he arrived Gin awaited him in a long, black silk robe over matching pajama pants and slippers. They said their hello's and Gin led the way to another segment of the building. This section looked less like a reception area and more like someone's home. Ichigo was offered a seat in a beige armchair next to the fireplace and Gin sat Indian style in the chair across from him.

"Would you like anything?" Gin asked. "I have a fully stocked bar. Have you eaten yet?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine, thanks." Ichigo sat stiffly while feeling like he was under the other man's scrutiny. Gin had both his elbows resting on his knees and his hands folded together as he watched Ichigo with a smile.

"Relax," said Gin. "Rangiku, me, all of us. You're amongst friends. Oh, I know!" he exclaimed, sliding off the chair. "Why don't we watch a movie while we wait?" he found a remote and pointed it at the television mounted to the wall, powering the large electronic. After pulling up Netflix he handed the remote off to Ichigo. "Pick something and I'll be right back."

Ichigo browsed through the available genres and decided on action. He was still scrolling down the array of movies when Gin returned with a large bowl of popcorn and two bottles of juice.

"I love a good action movie." Gin said, placing the food items on the coffee table between them.

"Then you can help me pick." Ichigo chuckled. "I'm not sure why I chose this section."

"Is that so? I think I have an idea." Gin laughed as he returned to his chair. He reached behind to grab a fur throw laid across the back of the seat. "Mind if I ask how Grimm and you met? You must enjoy the fast life to be with someone like him."

Ichigo stretched, leaning back to make himself more comfortable. He thought back months ago and smiled when remembering his first encounter with Grimmjow. He was glad he could smile now, because a smile was the furthest thing from his expression that day. It was hard to believe everything started from his younger sister deciding to get drunk mid-week across the tracks. "We met at a mutual friend's house." He said, deciding to skip the details of how he was car jacked and eyewitness to a murder.

Wrapping the throw blanket around himself, Gin looked to be getting settled for a story time. "Well that's boring. I was expecting something a little more dramatic. So, it was love at first sight?"

Ichigo laughed. His initial feelings were more like curiosity as first fright. "No, that wasn't the case. We've come a long way to get where we are now. You observed some of it. The first time me and you met at the park Grimmjow was trying to kill me. Thanks for that, by the way. Intervenin', I mean."

"No need to thank me, dear. I didn't really intervene. There's no trying, if Grimmjow wanted to actually kill you, you would be dead." Gin dug his hand into the popcorn and popped a few pieces in his mouth.

Ichigo winced at the way the man so off-handedly made the remark. Considering he's still alive, the thought he could be taking a dirt nap right now hadn't really occurred to him. Despite the fact he's had guns pointed in his face, been choked and shot, he's never felt more alive. It was a strange phenomenon, but considering the boring state of his life before meeting Grimmjow it was also understandable.

"I grew up on the economically depressed portion of town." Gin began. "Now having lived on this side for quite some time I can say it's like opposite ends of a spectrum. Many of the people included. I would have never imagined such a pairing between you too. Not to mention last I knew Grimm wasn't interested in men. You must be quite special."

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't think so. Yes, we're different but part the reason I fell for Grimmjow is because he's unlike anyone I ever met. I don't care where ya come from, I care about how we get along."

"I like you, Ichigo, you give off good vibes. I can see why you and Grimm are together. I find it interesting you live with Ryūken's son, but from what I've heard he's nothing like his dad. How is he holding up, by the way?"

"Uryū? He's doing better since the incident."

"Is he? I imagine I'd be in shambles if I were him. I still can't believe what they did to Nnoitra." Gin placed his hand over his heart and for the first time that night he wasn't wearing a smile. "Just tragic,"

"Wait, what happened?" Ichigo inquired, concern knitting his brows. "Who did what to Nnoitra?"

Knowing he just slipped up, Gin slowly lifted his hand to cover his mouth.

"Gin," Ichigo anxiously slid to the edge of his seat. "What happened?"

"My apologies. I spoke assuming you already knew, but it's not my place to say. Grimm should be back shortly. Or, you may want to ask Ryūken's son about it."

Before Ichigo could be tempted to press further, his attention was diverted and he looked past Gin's at the new presence in the room.

Gin spun around to see a haggard-looking Renji standing in the entryway. The man walked around to the front of Gin's chair with an item enclosed in his fist. A blood stained silver chain slipped through his fingers and he presented the small key attached to the end on his open palm.

Ichigo gripped both arms of his chair when the blue of Gin's eyes shown bright as the man stared at Renji's hand in awe. Ichigo had no idea what was taking place, but if Gin's reaction was any indication it had to be something of significance.

Gin reached for the key with a trembling hand but stopped before touching the steel. "You were successful?" he asked, looking up at Renji.

Renji nodded. "The proof is right here."

Gin snatched up the key and pulled on his pant leg, hiking the silk fabric up to reveal the diamond encrusted tether sparkling around his ankle. His fingers searched along the precious stones and once feeling what he was looking for, inserted the key. He worked until the tether snapped open and hit the floor with a heavy thud. Pulling his legs up into his chest, he looked down at the floor like the item there was a poisonous snake.

"Gin," Renji said softly, "we need to talk." He then directed his attention at Ichigo. "Grimmjow is outside waitin'."

Ichigo stood, looking between his silver-haired host and what looked like a diamond covered shackle on the floor. "I appreciate your hospitality, Gin. I'll see myself out." The silver-haired man appeared to almost be in a daze as Ichigo walked away and didn't initially respond.

While still in shock, Gin managed words before Ichigo was out of earshot. "Not a problem, we'll finish our movie later."

After finding his way outside, Ichigo spotted Grimmjow parked in the driveway. The man was sitting atop the hood of his Camaro, smoking and playing music. When he was within reach, Grimmjow grabbed him by the waist and pulled him between his legs.

"Sup?" Ichigo said, smiling at him weakly.

The thug didn't respond, instead held Ichigo's chin to bring his face closer and blew weed smoke against his lips. As Ichigo inhaled, he pressed their lips together in a lingering kiss.

With his hand secured at the small of Ichigo's back, Grimmjow made sure the man was tight against his body, as if he would drift away otherwise. "Yer good, right? Anybody fuck wid ya?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Why would anyone fuck with me? I'm more concerned about you. What happened to Nnoitra?"

Grimmjow's expression became despondent then transformed into something menacing. Ichigo wearily watched him, wondering if the man were on the verge of having a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde moment.

With his jaw clenched, Grimmjow looked away to focus on nothing in particular. "Don't," he warned.

Ichigo planted his hands on Grimmjow's shoulders and tried to get the man to look at him. "Grimm, talk to me."

The thug clamped his hand on Ichigo's face, tightly squeezing his jaw. "I said, don't,"

The grip was so harsh Ichigo threw his hands around Grimmjow's wrist for fear he would cause damage, though Grimmjow soon released him.

The thug sighed, removing his hand at Ichigo's back to put some distance between them. "Go home and pack a bag. Yer stayin' at Gin's for a while."

"Why? No, I can't take advantage of Gin's kindness and I see no reason why I need to leave home."

"Gin don't give a fuck and it's all already handled. Shit's 'bout to hit the fan and you ain't got the slightest idea of what's goin' on in yer own backyard."

Ichigo threw his hands up in frustration then dropped them to his sides. "I don't know shit because no one will tell me shit. Besides, I can't just up and abandon Uryū."

Grimmjow waved his hand dismissively. "None of them muthafuckas can be trusted, not even him. Yer gonna be under Gin's protection."

"I hope ya don't mean Uryū, because he would never do anything and I sure as hell don't need protection from him."

Grimmjow's face contorted with anger. "He's the reason Nnoi…." The man had to stop and take a deep breath. "Look, I said what the fuck I said. Yer not stayin' there."

It was becoming obvious to Ichigo that arguing was futile. "But I have school and whatnot. I can't just not show up."

"The fuck ya mean? Yer school's right up the damn road. Ain't nobody say ya gotta be a prisoner."

Grimmjow moved Ichigo out the way as he walked around to get inside his Camaro. He pulled the keys out the ignition and locked the vehicle. "Ya got an hour to be back here. Best believe if I gotta come lookin' for ya, there's gonna be a problem." After making his final point, he left Ichigo and headed towards the house.

-OoOoO-

"I hope you're aware I don't truly intend to dine with you." Said Uryū.

Shūkurō glanced down at the GPS map on his phone. "But we're almost there." When he looked over at his passenger, it was obvious Uryū didn't care. "Where would you like to go instead?"

"It makes no difference. You're the one that claims to have information, that's the only reason I'm taking this ride. Whose car is this, anyway?" Uryū looked around in disgust at the tan interior of the maroon, Buick LaSabre.

"I borrowed it from a friend." Shūkurō replied. "It's the only way I could ensure our movements weren't being traced."

"Well, don't go anywhere too public. I don't want to be seen in this travesty."

Shūkurō ignored the directions given by the GPS system and drove until arriving at a fitness trail. They both got out and found way to a secluded bench to sit. Other than a few exercisers passing by having an evening jog, they essentially had the area to themselves.

Uryū wasted no time getting to the point. "What is this information you have to tell me?"

"I know this will be hard to talk about, but firstly I need to know what happened the night Nnoitra was killed."

"Why? Either you have something to disclose or not. Have you forgotten I don't trust you?"

"I ask because it's relevant. I know you don't trust me but I am on your side. For example, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but there's a location tracer on your car and I've stumbled across Ryūken watching camera footage from the downstairs portion of your home. That's why I wanted to get you out of there, so we can talk freely."

Uryū couldn't even pretend to be surprised. The idea of being surrounded by cameras is more than unsettling, but he already deduced as much since Kūkaku mentioned Ryūken's use of such equipment. Shūkurō wasn't aware of that, though, and it seemed risky to reveal. Having nothing and nobody to cling to since losing Nnoitra, he wished there were someone he could confide in. Forgiving Ichigo and his hardheadedness was easy enough if they could go back to the way things were. Unfortunately, it seemed his best friend had been avoiding him and it's impossible to lean on an absent shoulder. Kūkaku and Yoruichi appear to be good people, but he suspected they would never trust him regardless of the relationship he had with Nnoitra. There was no one left but Shūkurō. As much as he had doubts about the man, he was becoming grateful to have someone's ear and company.

Uryū tried as best he could to describe what happened the night he was taken to Antiquated without becoming too broken up. He detailed how they found the bug under Nnoitra's hummer and not long after that Ryūken's people showed up with guns blazing.

Shūkurō watched the shorter man silently as he talked. He almost reached his hand out to console him during moments his voice started to break, but restrained himself as Uryū made it clear he didn't want to be touched. When the man finished, Shūkurō exhaled heavily. "I should have known this would happen."

Uryū's eyes narrowed at the comment. "Are you saying you knew and did nothing to warn me?"

"No, I only had a hunch. Although, I did try to express my concern the day I found you shopping. Ryūken had been tracking Nnoitra's movements more frequently, but I wasn't overly worried. I knew you two had stopped seeing each other and was glad."

Uryū leaned away from the other, looking him up and down. "What do you mean glad? You speak as if there was a benefit for you."

"It's just that I care about you so naturally I want what's best for you. For example, if we were together I would have made sure Ryūken wasn't a threat."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? My fiancé was just killed, so I'm going to ask that you show a little more tact."

" _Fiancé?"_ Shūkurō's thoughts lingered on the word but he didn't question it. He was more so taken aback by never having heard Uryū use such strong language before. "I only meant I considered your wellbeing and figured you both were safer establishing distance. I didn't mean for my comment to come off as inappropriate, it was just an example."

They stared awkwardly at one another, neither mentioning but both knowing that was a lie. Shūkurō hadn't tried to be discreet in his attraction to his employer's son, having flirted with him in the past but made light of it as a joke. He had become optimistic after seeing Uryū's boyfriend. Finding himself so physically similar to Nnoitra, it gave him hope in thinking he had a chance.

"Anyway," Shūkurō continued before their discussion veered too far down the wrong path. "truth is I don't work for your father because I enjoy it. I'm here because I've been trying to figure out what happened to my brother. That's really what I wanted to tell you. I'm certain he was killed because of his relationship with you."

"Who is this brother you speak of?" Uryū asked.

"Of course you remember Kūgo? He spoke fondly of you on the occasions we had a chance to talk."

Shock tore though Uryū and he gaped at Shūkurō with disbelief. "There's no way my father would have hired you if that were true. When he did a background check he would have discovered the relation."

Shūkurō shook his head, disagreeing. "We aren't blood related but were raised in the same foster home. I was eventually adopted but Kūgo and I stayed in contact. After he disappeared I traced his last whereabouts to Ryūken."

Uryū felt sick knowing in his heart all along his father played a role in the disappearance. Kūgo never spoke much about family, as it would put emphasis on their difference in background. While he had mentioned a brother it was hard to believe Shūkurō was it. He began to sympathize with his mediator, another victim of his father’s hate. People were being killed for just being associated with him. Uryū refused to live life as a recluse for fear his father would kill those around him. "His madness has to stop." He commented, more so thinking aloud.

"Definitely," Shūkurō agreed. "we're on the same page. What did you have in mind?"

"He's so concerned about his reputation, I've considered publicly exposing his misdeeds."

Shūkurō waited, expecting there to be more to the plan. When Uryū didn't provide further details he added his two cents. "And then what? It would be your word against his. You know the extent of his inner circle. He had drinks with the police commissioner just last week. There's a limited number of ways to stop a man like him."

"I know," Uryū removed his glasses and dropped his face into his palm, massaging his eyes. He knew exactly what Shūkurō was insinuating and it's not like his father doesn't have it coming. "he's still my father, though. There has to be another way. I don't think I could go through with such."

"I can. It's not like I intended to find out what I wanted to know and afterwards just walk away."

"No!" Uryū shook his head vehemently. "He's my father and if anyone should do it, it should be me."

Shūkurō couldn't say he agreed with that statement, but wasn't about to argue the man down. "Whatever you decide, I want you to know I'm here to help. We can figure this out together."

-0oUo0-

Ear plastered to the door, the sound of running water made Ichigo aware Uryū was in the shower. Given a time limit by Grimmjow, he kept moving to his room so he could start packing. He hoped when he finished, Uryū would also be done so they could have a chat before he left. Digging through his closet, Ichigo found an old Nike duffle bag good enough to carry his items. He had no idea how long he would be forced to impose on Gin, but packed a week's worth of clothing and necessities.

Once gathering what he needed and making an exit, he saw the door to Uryū's room ajar. Standing outside it, he placed his bag on the floor and gave a few soft knocks to the wood. "Uryū?" Ichigo said, slowly pushing the door open.

His dark-haired housemate stood to his bed folding clothes. Uryū had a slight pause as the other entered but he didn't turn his attention away from his task. "I wasn't aware you were here. Coincidentally enough, I was just thinking of calling you."

"Yeah? I think we're overdue for a talk. We have stuff to sort out, but I'm also concerned because I heard somethin' happened to Nnoitra. What's goin' on?"

Folding a pair of jeans, Uryū's motions stopped abruptly and he stood there looking down at the denim. "He was killed, Ichigo."

Ichigo gripped the door frame as the revelation sent shock waves though him. "A-Are you sure?"

Uryū threw down the clothing in his hand and turned to Ichigo with his conflicting emotions fighting each other for dominance. "What the hell kind of stupid question is that? I was there when he got shot!" He looked angry enough to punch a hole through the wall, but sad enough to break down in a fit of tears.

Ichigo approached him, cautiously placing his arms around his best friend. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Uryū hadn't had anyone really console him since the murder and he needed this more than he realized. And while the urge was there, he didn't cry. At this point he was forcing all this emotion and energy into seeing that Nnoitra's senseless murder is properly avenged.

The sting of Ichigo's eyes watering was not only for Nnoitra, but the thought of being in Uryū's position right now. He imagined the pain he felt from the news was nothing but a bee sting compared to the gaping wound left on Uryū. Then there was Grimmjow. He completely understood why the man refused to even discuss it.

"Want to tell me what happened?" Ichigo asked after putting some distance between them.

"Long story short, my father's out for blood. I went with Nnoitra to meet his family and my dad sent his goons to shoot up the place. He was a casualty."

Ichigo cocked his head, confused. "Why would your dad do that? It makes no sense." Then it dawned on him the comment Grimmjow made about none of them being trustworthy. Why would Ryūken send someone on a shooting spree, especially while Uryū was there, and risk his own son's life? As much as he wished to inquire about that very issue, he wasn't sure how to word it without sounding accusatory.

It just occurred to Uryū that Ichigo is oblivious to Ryūken's true colors, his affiliation with Kūkaku, criminal activities and his willingness to kill. And unfortunately, since the security of their current surroundings is questionable, he couldn't delve into details as much as he would have liked.

"It's complicated," Uryū said, returning to fold clothes.

Ichigo realized the clothes he folded were being packed in a suitcase. "Goin' somewhere?"

Uryū tensed at the question. "I'm moving back home for a while."

"Huh?" Ichigo questioned, incredulous. "Why do that after what ya just told me?"

"That's also complicated." For a moment Uryū stopped and a hopeful look crossed his face. "You should come with me."

It was Ichigo's turn to tense. Not to mention after what was just revealed, under Ryūken’s roof was the last place he wanted to be. "I can't, Uryū, I'm sorry."

Uryū's eyes flickered to Ichigo and he did a double take when just noticing the duffle bag on the floor outside his door. "Looks like you're headed somewhere as well."

Ichigo scratched at the back of his neck. "I was comin' to talk about that. I'm stayin' with a friend and I might be there a minute."

"A minute, you say?" Uryū knew there was only one person from whom Ichigo could have picked up such lingo. "Is this a _friend_ you are not willing to refuse to come stay with me?"

"It's not like that, but yeah I can't really refuse."

Uryū pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I see," his mouth eased into a slight smirk.

Both men were silent as Uryū finished filling his suitcase.

Ichigo made another attempt in trying to make Uryū understand the predicament he's in. "It's hard to explain but I don't have a choice in the matter."

"Right, just like you didn't have a choice when you left before and have mysteriously been elusive since. It's fine, Ichigo. It's obvious who you've given your loyalty."

Ichigo felt the burn of that assertion down to his core. "Come on, Uryū, that's not fair."

Uryū grabbed his suitcase and walked past Ichigo, not giving him as much as a glance. "Stay safe and be sure to lock up when you leave."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some revising of this chapter from the one originally posted on FF.net. Specifically, I made cuts. If you’ve already read the original rereading isn’t necessary (unless you want to of course). I tried to stick with noticeable progression and at the time felt certain elements necessary before the final chapter. Looking back I now feel those particular aspects unneeded. And honestly it was a bit of a hot mess. I wanted more of a bridge between chap 20 and the next chapter’s events but the 21 originally posted was too long and too hastily thrown together.

Ichigo stood outside the office door listening to the various voices drifting from the other side. He knocked for the sake of being polite but figured it wasn't heard over the noise. Easing open the door, the array of people congregated in Gin's office mirrored what he had imagined. He noticed his carjackers in one corner of the room but there was no longer a lingering animosity towards the thieving men. Considering their actions played a role in how he met Grimmjow, he could almost thank them. In the opposite corner sat two occupied women who both glanced his way but their eyes didn't linger.

Gin, who was in the company of Rangiku, Shinji and a unfamiliar face, waved him over.

Greetings were passed around and everyone spoke except the unfamiliar face, who stood behind a seated Rangiku, braiding her hair.

The nameless individual looked up to give Ichigo a thorough once over then chuckled. "Interesting," they commented.

Perched in a chair beside Gin, Rangiku laughed. "Be nice." she said, and then smiled warmly at Ichigo. "Yumichika can't help being a catty bitch, it's just part of his personality. Don't take it personally."

The mentioned male winked at Ichigo and pulled his side braided black hair over his shoulder. "Feel free to call me Yumi, and I'm only a bitch to those I don't like. Your status is still up in the air."

"Oh, OK?" Ichigo tried to smile, despite the off-putting introduction.

"Yumi, make sure you're hospitable towards Ichigo." said Gin. "I don't think Grimm would be happy if he found out you were being shady towards his boo."

Shinji inquisitively held his chin, studying the orange-haired man. "Wait a minute, yer Ichigo?"

Ichigo returned a blank stare. "Yeah. I've hung out at Tatsuki's when you were there. You also came to my sister's party."

"Wow, Shin, that's pathetic." Rangiku teased. "Lay off the bud. All that smoking is destroying your memory."

Shinji shrugged his shoulders. "They were callin' dude Orange last I remember. It ain't like I checked the man's credentials to know his government name. So Grimmjow's bisexual or some shit? Ain't nothin' wrong with that. 'Bout time he lived his truth."

Yumichika rolled his eyes. "Isn't that what Chad told you?"

Shinji scowled at the dark haired man. "The hell are ya goin' on 'bout?"

"No shade, Shin, it's just I wouldn't talk about living truths if I were you. I won't say the name since she's deceased, but you used to chase after a certain pigtail wearing working girl while still denying busting it open for Chad. Even though I heard Chad's been riding that bussy like a newly purchased Bugatti fresh off the lot."

Rangiku yelped a laugh then covered her mouth to mute it into a soft giggle. "Stop. You are so messy."

Shinji's face turned a bright cherry red. "H-He told ya'll that?"

"Nope," Yumichika batted his false eyelashes at the blond. "but your reaction just did. You better get it together. I walked past Chad yesterday swishing this ass in my Fendi leggings. Don't make me steal that fine ass man. Not to brag, but I can make banging arroz rojo and carnitas. And unlike others, I know how to treat a man."

Shinji promptly displayed his middle finger. "Fuck off, Yumi. Jawns stay runnin' their mouth like the opinion of an overused hoe is relevant." He had heard enough, livid as he stomped away from the group.

Yumichika waved a goodbye. "Stay mad, darling. When you get your attitude together you can talk to me about some deep conditioner and aligning that hideous, lopsided bang. Your hair looks like a cosplay wig and your entire appearance is mournful."

The blond shot a deadly look from over his shoulder before making a door slamming exit from the office.

Gin's hand covered his smile curved lips. "Now Yumi…" he couldn't contain himself and he and Rangiku burst out laughing.

The dark-haired man nonchalantly smoothed a lock of hair by his ear. "Someone needed to read his ass."

Ichigo was feeling out of place, like an awkward fifth wheel trying to integrate himself in what was clearly a double date. Maybe if there were another that shared his displacement he would feel less like a fish out of water. That in turn made him think of Uryū and he smiled sadly.

"Don't mind them," said Gin, giving his attention to Ichigo. "Grimm stepped out not long before you arrived and will be back shortly. You can sit and hang with us while you wait."

Ichigo agreed by sitting in the chair across from Gin's desk.

"Yes, Ichigo, join us." said Yumichika, eyes full of curiosity. He was ready to add something more until his attention drifted to above Ichigo's chair.

Following the man's eyes, Ichigo turned around to see Grimmjow standing behind his seat and a sense of relief followed. After being forced out his element he appreciated the sense of familiarity that accompanied the thug.

"Over here listenin' to these birds chirp. Let's go." said Grimmjow.

Ichigo smiled appreciation at Gin for trying to make him feel comfortable and followed Grimmjow to an empty corner of the office.

Grimmjow sat a bag of take-out on the table and spread a property layout next to it.

"What's that?" Ichigo asked, pointing to the paper.

"Work," Grimmjow curtly replied. "Get the food out and stop askin' so many questions."

"I asked one question, not sure how that amounts to many."

Grimmjow leaned over to ensure no one other than the red-head could hear him. "So yer actin up? Don't get bold jus' cus I can't bend ya over this table to remind ya who yer talkin' to. Trust, I'll still embarrass yer ass in here."

A tingle ran the course of Ichigo's spine and spread throughout his nether regions. Even if the threat wasn't explicitly sexual in nature, the way Grimmjow's deeply arousing voice fondled his ear easily turned him on. "Whatever," he mumbled and began removing the boxes of Chinese food. "I'm not actin' up. I just missed you."

"I know, I've been dealin' wid shit. I'll make time for ya after I handle my business."

Ichigo discovered since Grimmjow's return he, too, has been staying at Gin's. Based on what little information he gathered he deduced a problem had occurred and the relocation was necessary. If his assumptions were correct it had something to do with Nnoitra getting killed, but Grimmjow refused to go into detail and Ichigo had learned better than to press him for answers. Despite having accommodations under the same roof they've spent no time together. Being Grimmjow's boo, Ichigo felt entitled to at least some of the man's time. Although, with Grimmjow constantly working along with silently suffering with the things he refused to discuss, Ichigo knew being selfish was of no benefit to either of them.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo apologized not just for being needy, but for being unable to get the thug to open up emotionally and share his burdens.

Finding the apology unnecessary, Grimmjow knew he was neglecting his relationship but it was beyond his control. It did nothing more than remind him of the time he could be spending alone with Ichigo instead of sitting in Gin's office. He looked down at the layout before him. He was starting to hate the piece of paper but it demanded his attention. "Fuckin’ wid you got me distracted. Make yerself useful and open my food."

Ichigo ignored how rudely the thug gave the order and looked over the boxes. "You must be really hungry." he commented, noting the many containers.

"Nah, some is for you."

"You didn't have to do that. Gin's chef brings me meals every day."

"Can a muthafucka be thoughtful and bring ya somethin' to eat? I ain't ask shit 'bout Gin's chef. Ungrateful ass." Grimmjow grumbled.

"I didn't mean it like that." Ichigo tried clearing up his poorly communicated appreciation. "I just didn't want ya goin' to any extra trouble on my behalf."

In an agitation induced action, Grimmjow pinched Ichigo's lips together, suspending the man's ability to speak. "Do somethin’ ‘bout these. They’re movin’ too much and gettin’ on my nerves."

Ichigo could only blink his surprise until his lips were released. At which point he sat quietly while Grimmjow snatched open a container of steamed rice and another of chicken and broccoli. The man obviously high-strung, even more so than usual, and rightfully so. All Ichigo could do was exercise patience and understanding. If he were the one dealing with the loss of his closest friend, he hoped the same courtesy would be extended.

Ichigo watched while Grimmjow traced a finger over sections of the layout as if studying it. With his other hand he used the fork provided with his meal to gather food, struggling to multitask with the flimsy plastic and balance enough on the utensil. Ichigo gently laid his hand on Grimmjow's wrist then relieved him of the tool. He gathered a bit of food from both boxes and held it to the man's mouth.

The thug appeared appreciative of the gesture, eyeing Ichigo with a smirk as he accepted the bite.

Feeling someone watching him, Ichigo turned to be met with two confused, honey colored eyes. They belonged to one of the women who had occupied a different corner of the office. Now she stood behind Grimmjow appearing not only puzzled but highly amused. She looked from Ichigo to the fork in his hand.

"Hi… Can I help you?" said Ichigo, tempted to ask why she was looking all in his face.

The woman smiled widely. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Ichigo. And you are?"

"I'm Yoruichi," she then nudged Grimmjow in the back. "Grimm, why are you sitting up here acting like you have no home training? Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Grimmjow sucked his teeth. "What for? Ya'll already introducin' yerselves."

Now Ichigo had a better understanding of the woman and her curiosity. Having heard the name before, he knows Yoruichi to be one of the women Grimmjow works with and who also helped raise him.

"Do you work for Gin?" Yoruichi asked.

Grimmjow responded in his stead. "Hell no he don't work for nobodies Gin. He ain't like that."

"Then, he's a...  _friend_  of yours?" she made sure to appropriately place emphasizes for dramatic effect.

Grimmjow suddenly grew quiet.

Yoruichi turned her question to the orange haired male instead. "Are you a friend to this jackass?"

Ichigo couldn't help feeling slighted by the fact Grimmjow hadn't answered the question. At this point, he hoped the man wasn't ashamed to admit their relationship is romantic to his family. "Would you say we're friends, Grimmjow?" he asked, hoping to discredit his suspicion.

"It ain't like we're not friends." was Grimmjow's response.

Resentment surged though Ichigo as he fixated on the side of Grimmjow's face. He knew the man could see him with his peripheral vision, but wouldn't meet his stare. He decided before saying something that further disturbed the notably awkward atmosphere, it was time to go. Ichigo forced a smile for Yoruichi then wordlessly took his leave from the office.

"Shame," Yoruichi said as she jumped to sit on the table, parking herself precisely on the spot Grimmjow was studying.

The thug leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "What?"

"Why’d you do that man like that? It's obvious to anyone he's more than just a friend."

"If it's obvious why'd ya run up tryna make a big deal?"

"When I saw him feeding you K and I nearly fell out our chairs." Yoruichi grinned when recalling how the orange haired man affectionately catered to Grimmjow. "We didn't know you were close with anyone. Considering your history with woman, I'm also surprised it's a man."

Grimmjow threw his arms up in frustration then let them drop weakly at his sides. Not this again. "So what if he's a man. Were ya surprised when ya first found out how Nnoi was gettin' down? And I know you and boss be gettin' it in. Ain't no hidin' that shit anymore."

Although Grimmjow were attempting to ruffle her feathers, she was unfazed. "When you and Nnoi were younger we thought it best if our relationship appeared professional. But that was then and I don't have shit to hide. I love my woman and was never ashamed of our relationship."

"I ain't ashamed of shit. That's my boo and these muthafuckas know they'd get laid flat if they ever try to come for what's mine." he made the threat loud and clear.

Yoruichi used her hand to signal Grimmjow to lower his voice, as they started getting looks from the others. Gin even made a point to make use of the swivel mechanism in his chair and spun all the way around to see what was going on behind him.

"Chill out," she said. "I'm just trying to understand why you were so reluctant to tell me your relationship status. You and I are too close for you to be acting stupid over shit like that. It seems like you care about him."

"I do, which is why I ain't say nothin' so he wouldn’t get the third degree.  I don't give a fuck who knows, but they stay in his face askin' 'bout our relationship, straight buggin'. He don't need that." Grimmjow grabbed a food container and began eating the contents, chopping down a piece of broccoli like it had personally offended him.

"Alright, Grimmjow. No one was going to bother Ichigo, I just wanted to say hello. You're awfully protective of him. Reminds me of when I started working with K. Even though I was initially being paid to do a job, when that instinctual protector kicked in it was a wrap. I never thought I'd see the day you of all people fell in love."

Grimmjow found himself swallowing at the wrong moment and her words made him choke on his food.

Yoruichi gave him a few hard pats on the back until he stopped coughing. "Anyway, he didn’t look happy when you tried to downplay the relationship. You should go get him and apologize, the meeting will start soon."

Grimmjow opened a bottle of iced tea and took a swig to soothe his throat. "Nah, its best he left. He don't know what's goin' on and would be askin' a million stupid questions."

"Did you tell him what's going to happen afterwards?"

Grimmjow ran a hand down his face and loudly exhaled. At first he was glad for the change in subject because he refused to acknowledge her previous comment. Now, not so much. "I'll cross that road when I reach it."

Yoruichi gave the man a concerned look but didn't speak on the matter further.

Abruptly, Gin's office door flew open, a tall and muscular man stood in the doorway. His eyes bounced around the busy office before settling on Gin. "Who the hell are all these people?" he asked.

Gin welcomed the newly arriving man. "It's nice to see you, Kenpachi. These people are some of the individual’s you'll be working with."

Dressed in army fatigues, Kenpachi's tan combat boots stomped forward until in range of the seat by Gin's desk. “Alright, let’s get right to it.”

"I have all the contracts for you and your men. The varying amounts of pay take into consideration injuries. It's all detailed inside."

Kenpachi waved his hand dismissively. "I don't give a fuck about that. How many can I kill and it's off the record?"

"There is no limit. Non-combative persons and staff should be avoided of course but I encourage you to kill as many as possible. Will make matters easier for me in the long run. "

"Hot damn!" Kenpachi shouted, laughing and leaning forward in his chair. His mouth curved in a grin that looked horribly sinister. "Now that's the shit I'm talking about."

Grimmjow eyed the loud, grinning man whose long, wild black hair and scar running down the left of his face caught his attention. "This fool looks crazy as fuck."

Yoruichi couldn’t deny his appearance was noteworthy. He didn’t even have eyebrows. "That’s Kenpachi Zaraki. He's a military vet who has a knack for fighting and a taste for blood. I heard he fights as crazy as he looks, so be glad he's on our side."

As they continued to talk about their plans, Gin's door opened again and this time a short, blond teen entered the office. He held the handle of a steel case and his green eyes drifted around the room as he stood hesitantly in the doorway.

Gin waved at the teen. "Hello, Yukio, I'm glad you could join us."

"I wouldn't miss an opportunity to see my father's business tank." said the blond after taking a seat.

"Gin, what is this?" asked a confused Kenpachi. "This is no place for children. You running an after school program or some shit?"

Gin tried his best to behave professionally and not laugh at the curious questions. It was especially hard with Yukio hatefully glaring at the one who asked. "Yukio's father not only owns the largest home security service, he is the personal head of Ryūken's technical security and surveillance systems. Having access to his father's business information, Yukio can-"

"Thanks, Gin, but I can speak for myself." said the teen. "I know every code, password and pin number to abort alert systems, alarms, surveillance, locks, you name it. I have the ability to bring down the security of one of the most protected men in this city. My father is so wrapped up in his work he doesn't know I've spent years learning the ins and outs of his business. Impressive, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is." agreed Gin. "I already sent a copy of the contract with details of compensation. I trust you received it?"

"Yeah, but I already have money, I need favors.” The teen opened the metal case which housed a laptop computer. "My parents, they annoy me." he said, slipping on a headset. "However, I want it to look like suicide. If you press the right buttons they might make it easy and off themselves."

"Consider it done." Gin assured. The boy, who was still in high school, was far more ruthless than his innocent appearance led on. "Alright, then," Gin spoke loud enough so the room could hear. "Now that we're all here together we can get this plan under way. One week from today after preparations are complete we'll make our move."

The groups began to talk amongst themselves. Gin had become engaged in a conversation with Kenpachi and didn't pay attention to the caller ID when the desk phone rang.

"Hello," he answered, though as he listened to the voice on the other end his color paled. "Good afternoon, Ryūken, how are you today?"

Everyone turned to look at Gin, the silence that instantly plagued the room deafening. The man proceeded with the conversation, the glee in his tone a stark contrast to the frown on his face. "No, there was a change in plans and he's not returning until the end of the month. You know how my darling is, always working... Yes, that is short notice and I cannot break away from my appointments." Gin's complexion seemed to grow paler as the conversation carried on. "Unfortunately, I have meetings tomorrow morning... I understand. Since it's an urgent matter I will make time in the evening... OK, see you soon." By the time Gin hung up he was as white as a ghost.

Grimmjow walked over to the side of the man's desk. "What's good?"

Gin shook his head, like he couldn't believe the conversation even though he was the one on the phone. "Apparently Ryūken was supposed to have a conference with Baraggan today but hasn't been able to get in contact with him all week. Talk about timing. He wants to meet with me instead so I scheduled it for tomorrow night."

"Oh no, Gin." said a concerned Rangiku. "Surly you're not going to go?"

"I couldn't say no or it would look suspicious." Gin smiled, hoping to ease her worries. "As far as he knows we're a neutral party. I don't suspect he's on to us."

"Bullshit," Grimmjow spat. "Of course he knows what the fuck’s goin' on. See, this is why we shoulda been on this shit. All this talkin’ and nothin’s gettin’ done."

"Grimmjow, relax." said Kūkaku. "Gin, I know we need to be properly prepared, but is there a specific reason why we need to wait an entire week?"

Gin nodded. "It's going to take a week to get the necessary medical team and equipment together. We also need the communication equipment for Yukio to program."

"Actually," Yukio chimed in, his fingers swiftly tapping against the keys of his laptop. After a few clicks he looked up at Gin. "Ordered. The Bluetooth headpieces will be here tomorrow morning. I love overnight shipping."

"Also," said Rangiku. "I have a couple girlfriends I can call that are in the medical field. It won't be the same as a full medical team, but we've done more with less."

"And my men are ready to go whenever." Kenpachi added.

Gin rubbed his temples, considering everyone's input. "Alright, if we all agree I guess we're putting the plan in motion tomorrow."

X_v_o_v_X

While the waiting room chairs were exceptionally comfortable, that didn't change the fact Uryū detested having to sit in one in the first place. He had been displaying remarkable patience for over ten minutes before someone finally entered the waiting room.

"Mr. Ishida, uh... Mr. Ishida will see you now." said the man.

It was as absurd as it sounded. Uryū couldn't believe he had to make an appointment to see his own father. Under different circumstances he would had barged into the man's office, but currently he thought it wise to be on his best behavior.

Scrolling through his phone, Ryūken paid only partial attention when his son entered the room. "Uryū, I imagine you're settled in?"

Uryū took the seat directly across from his father. "It's been days. How long do you think it takes to unpack a suitcase?"

"When you're a man as busy as I the days almost meld together. I hardly leave my office." To emphasize this, Ryūken picked up a thick stack of papers and sat them in the middle of his desk. With a pen in hand, he began reading over the first page, marking and signing as he went. "In any case, I'm glad you've come to your senses. It's a crucial time right now and it's best that you're home. I'm curious, what influenced your decision?"

A short pause ensued. Uryū was trying his best to censor his words so his mouth didn't get him in trouble. "I figured I didn't have much of a choice. Considering your men almost killed me, it's your way or the highway, right?"

Ryūken eyes narrowed and he leaned away from his desk to look at his son. "What do you mean?"

Uryū remained calm, trying not to respond with rage to his father's ignorance. "When they attacked the antique shop I would have been shot if it weren't for Nnoitra. He died protecting me."

Ryūken dropped his pen and used his fingers to massage at his forehead, visibly perturbed. "You had no business being there, but at least he was good for something."

The leather covered padding groaned when Uryū gripped the chair's arms to force himself to stay planted in his seat. To hear his father say such a heartless thing wasn't totally shocking, but he still couldn't help the resulting outrage that made him tremble with fury.

"It's evident you were traumatized by the ordeal but its good that you're safe." added Ryūken.

Seeing how his anger was misjudged as trauma, which wasn't far from the truth, Uryū breathed a few deep breaths to control his emotions before his temper got the best of him. "You say that like you actually care." He let the remark slip considering it was quite tame compared to the other things he wanted to say.

"While it's rare we see eye to eye you are still my son. To assume I wouldn't care is an insult. Had I known you were there I would have never sent my men."

Ryūken's rare moment of showing empathy somewhat cooled Uryū's anger and left him confound. He had easily been a step away from harboring pure hatred for the man, convinced he cared about no one but himself. Instead of being pushed over the edge, he found himself teetering on the median. However, that only meant he needed to proceed cautiously before making any final decisions. There may be hope for him yet.

"On the bright side," said Ryūken, "since you were present you can tell me what happened."

Uryū refused to give a play by play so his father could feel satisfaction in discovering how much mayhem he caused. "It was too hectic. I didn't really see what happened."

"Is that so?" the skepticism was clear in Ryūken's tone but he didn't question Uryū further. "I suppose it doesn't matter. When my men didn't report back I knew they failed. I was lacking expendable employees at the time and estimated only two men would be inadequate, but took a gamble. As I recently hired more staff, next time will prove favorable results."

Despite the composed appearance, Uryū was nearly dizzy from bottling his many emotions. "Next time? Isn't it enough that you're the reason Nnoitra is dead? What are you trying to prove?"

"It's not about proving anything. At this point it's the principle." Ryūken picked up his pen and went back to his work. "Is this the true reason why you decided to move back home? To dissuade me from my plans? You're a little behind schedule. My men will be ready to depart the moment I confirm their location. So if you value your life you would do best to stay put. With Nnoitra gone, you have no reason to be emotionally invested in this fight."

"That's not true." Uryū's voice bordered a shout. "Ichigo is with Grimmjow. If you attack them he could very well end up hurt or worse."

Ryūken’s writing paused as he considered the scenario, then continued as before. "Isshin doesn't have much in terms of good sense so of course he couldn't raise his children properly. I hear even his daughter is cohabitating with one of them. I realize Ichigo is your friend but he is no responsibility of mine."

"Ichigo is my best friend and we've known each other almost our entire lives. He has spent time here, you have met his family and you know his father well. You would still attack knowing Ichigo could get killed in the process?"

"Son, in all honesty I think he has been a negative influence on you. If you lie down with dogs, you end up with fleas. You're getting older and need to associate yourself with individuals who behave more respectably in the public eye, so this is actually for the best. You call him your best friend and yet he's currently with the man that tried to kill you. You don't find that odd?" Ryūken shook his head in disappointment. "How long will it take before you learn to not let compassion override common sense?"

No, Ichigo and he currently weren't on the best of terms but he refused to let Ryūken's words warp his mind a second time. "Or rather, you will never understand that you and I are not the same." he said quietly, rising from his chair. As he turned his back any lingering doubts about what needed to be done to stop his father faded. There was no hope for this man and oddly, it made his heart unexpectedly heavy. The hostility he felt wouldn't let him forget that Ryūken is his parent, his blood.

Nearing the door, Uryū was urged to stop and spun around to face the white-haired man. "Father, thank you for your time here today and thank you in general. I'm sure it was difficult to raise me alone after mom died and for that I am grateful."

Ryūken looked up from his papers, studying his son with a quirked brow. "Well, it wasn't as if I could send you away to be raised by relatives. My reputation would have suffered. And for a while, the widowed, single father angle worked in my favor."

Uryū smirked, finding it funny only because he knew Ryūken was dead serious. Neither were the type to wear their heart on their sleeve, but Uryū didn't want to regret not expressing his gratitude at least once. As he knew a time would come when he wouldn't get the opportunity to do so again.

X_x_v_x_X

Ichigo threw his textbook on the poster-style bed and plopped face down in the plush comforter, there was no point in trying to study. Only Grimmjow could manage to leave him emotionally aggravated and sexually frustrated at the same time. Rolling on his back to stare at the mini, gold chandelier hanging from his lodgings, a talk about the former of these two issues would be essential when the time was right. The latter issue, he reasoned he could take care of that himself. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard his door shut and the lock engage. Alarmed, he sprung up from his lying position.

"Learn how to lock this door." said Grimmjow.

Most people had the decency to knock before barging in. That’s what Ichigo wanted to say in any case. Instead he settled for, “Hey,”

The thug joined him to sit on the bed. “We gotta talk."

"Good timing. Can we discuss why ya don't want Yoruichi to know we're in a relationship?"

Grimmjow groaned. He wasn't surprised by the question, but of all the things that needed to be discussed that wasn’t priority. "She's my peoples but she's nosy as fuck. Anyway we talked and now she knows yer my boo, so it ain't shit to stress over."

"Oh," Ichigo wasn't expecting Grimmjow to be so forthright with an answer. "OK, because I was thinkin'-"

"Look, don't think, listen. Whatever I tell ya don't leave this room."

Understanding the significance in what must be a serious matter, Ichigo stopped speaking and gave his undivided attention.

Grimmjow began to tell everything. Ichigo was shocked, and saddened, to learn how Grimmjow's mother had been alive all these years, the truth behind why she disappeared and how he reconnected with her only to see her gunned down. The tale ended with the attack on the antique shop. Although Nnoitra was never spoken of, Ichigo already knew that outcome. All of it came full circle and connected back to Ryūken.

Ichigo tried to wrap his mind around all the information but it was a lot to digest at once. "So, what are you guys plannin' to do?"

Grimmjow thought that should be obvious. "We're takin’ ‘in out. Hittin' his spot tomorrow night."

Ichigo's eyes grew wide as fear gripped him. "But Uryū is there, he just went back home."

Grimmjow had no reaction to the information, clearly unbothered.

Ichigo reached out and grabbed the man's arm. "Grimmjow, please, this is serious. You have to promise me you won't hurt him. He's my best friend and I won't just sit here quietly if he's in danger. I will warn him."

Personally, Grimmjow couldn't care less about what happened to the glasses wearer, but Ichigo was adamant about the man's safety. "Why’s he there? This is why I said they can’t be trusted."

"I don't know, he said it's complicated but it doesn't matter. I’m sure he has a good reason and it’s not whatever you’re thinkin’. If I have to tell him, I will. If that was your best friend you'd want him to know if he’s in danger." After making the comment Ichigo realized he may have gone too far.

Grimmjow held an intense glower as he stared at the red-head until something in him seemed to soften. "Chill, I'll let them know so he don't get hurt. Don’t go runnin’ yer trap or it'll fuck wid our plans."

Ichigo was hesitant to accept Grimmjow would cooperate. "You give your word?"

Grimmjow raised his right hand as if giving a testimony. "I put that on my moms, rest her soul."

Ichigo found contentment in reasoning that Grimmjow wouldn't lie on his dead mother. The story of everything leading up to and taking place after her murder still had his head spinning. He sunk in to the bed, exhaling weakly. "I can't believe Ryūken has caused so much pain and destruction." Not that he was defending the man. It only collaborated what Uryū told him and explained why Grimmjow didn't want him living at their shared home. "So there's not another way? You guys can't, like, tell the police?"

Grimmjow quizzically cocked his head. Ichigo’s question was too ridiculous to fully register. "The fuck I look like snitchin' to a badge? They'd laugh in my damn face then lock my ass up. Half them muthafuckas are on that bastards payroll. This is why I don't tell ya nothin'. Ya never understand how shit works in my world."

"I do understand but I'm concerned because goin' to his house will be dangerous. He keeps a lot of security." Ichigo chewed on his bottom lip, anxiously waiting for Grimmjow to reassure him that everything would be okay and he wouldn't end up like Nnoitra.

"That's the risk we gotta take. Who's tryna sit back and wait to be picked off? If I go out 'least I'll go out like a G, Tony Montana style. Wavin' a M16 and blastin' these fools 'til my last breath." Grimmjow chuckled while imitated waving a gun in the air.

Neither was Ichigo impressed nor amused. His grip on Grimmjow's arm tightened and he looked on the verge of tears. That's not what he wanted to hear.

Grimmjow cursed under his breath. The worry glinting in those pretty brown eyes made his gut flip. "What're ya lookin' all upset for? I ain't say I was goin' there to die, damn. We got a plan, so it'll be aight. Plus, ya know I'm comin' back." Grimmjow rubbed the small of Ichigo's back. "I’m tryna see that ass clap when I return."

Ichigo fought a smiled and blinked back tears. "Come on, this is serious."

"Damn right it's serious. The way ya bounce that thang back is my weakness. If anything kills me it'll be that ass."

Ichigo laughed, pushing the man's arm. "Yeah, OK,"

Reluctant to leave Ichigo's side, Grimmjow was at least glad he could make the man smile. Knowing how detrimental it was to meet back with the others is the only reason he shifted off the bed. He leaned down, kissing Ichigo and lingering against the supple lips. It was a struggle to move towards the door but by force he did so before he was convinced to stay. "Keep yer ass in this house and don't be 'round here in ya feelin's actin' like a punk."

Ichigo frowned thoughtfully at the words. "Considering how much you mean to me, I don't see how carin’ whether ya live or die makes me a punk."

"It's cus yer trippin' for no reason. Trust, ain't no way I'm dying. Comin' back to my boo is all the reason I need to stay alive."

The words seemed to impact Ichigo on a physical level as he gripped at his chest. Grimmjow turned away before he got an extended show of Ichigo's emotions. He closed the door as he left and leaned against the frame. As he’s not a sentimental man he couldn't explain what left his mouth. Either spending too much time across the tracks was beginning to make him soft or Yoruichi's comment hit the mark. Were he to be completely honest with himself he knew the extent of his feelings for Ichigo well before anyone pointed them out. Although right now he didn't have time to get caught up in that. Still, he meant what he said and would do everything in his power to make it back to Ichigo.


	22. Chapter 22

The pistol swayed unsteadily, certain to miss the target. As he tried tightening his hold his hand shook violently, nerves getting the better of him.

 “So, are you ever going to fire or are you just going to stand there all day holding the thing?”

Uryū inhaled a shaky breath, unaccustomed to the feel of a deadly weapon enclosed in his hand. “Is that the attitude to take with someone holding a gun? I would appreciate if you shut your mouth.” If he weren’t so intensely trying to focus he would’ve punctuated his statement with a pointed glare.

Shūkurō laughed, having become accustomed to the man’s impertinent way of speaking. “Is that the attitude to take with someone trying to help you? Here,” he came behind the shorter male, holding Uryū’s arms to assist in a more steady aim.

Uryū barely resisted the urge to shake him off, for a second almost forgetting what he was holding. It was best to avoid any sudden movements. “Get off me. I can handle this.”

“Yet you’re shaking so badly you can’t even get your finger on the trigger. You’ve never fired a gun and the sound up close might frighten you.”

While a valid point, Uryū would never openly admit such. He simply didn’t disagree, and with help from the other aimed for the distant target attached to the tree in the clearing. It was dawn, so dim surroundings limited his view. Taking a deep breath, he finally pulled the trigger. The sudden jerk and air splitting crack did startle him, but it wasn’t nearly as alarming as he imagined. Besides, it wasn’t as if he never heard a gun before.

“Nice job,” encouraged Shūkurō. “You hit the target on the first try. I’m letting go, see if you can hit-“

Uryū fired three more shots after quickly adapting to the weapon, hitting the target near the center each time.

“Wow, you’ve got one hell of an aim for this to be your first time.”

Uryū lowered the weapon, looking down at the shining surface of the gun. His hand again began to shake, remembering these things killed people. He was a witness to that fact. Firing at a tree was one thing, but firing at a person was on a completely different scale. Could he do it? No, he had to do it. Time was running out.

“Hey,” said Shūkurō, planting a hand on the man’s shoulder and bringing him out his thoughts. “I only brought you out here because I agreed to help you but you still don’t have to do this.”

“Actually, I do. My father refuses to be reasoned with and it’s only a matter of time before he locates Grimmjow. I’ll be damned if I have to attend Ichigo’s funeral, the fool.” Newly determined, Uryū raised the pistol and fired until the magazine emptied. “Now, show me how to reload.”

O_X_O

They pulled up to Ryūken’s estate, only just now seeming to realize how immense the property was. In a way, even the large outer gates at which they sat waiting were intimidating.

Chad watched his employer carefully in the rearview mirror, noticing the faraway look in his eyes before deciding he would relay his thoughts. “At any time I can turn the car around if you change your mind. I’m not going against your decision but I want you to know you have options.”

Gin gazed out his window wondering what awaited him inside the home. He could always feel the hateful vibes emanating off Ryūken and knew the man never liked him. A mutual feeling. He tried to stay positive by imagining this meeting pertained to some simple business Baraggan forgot to handle before leaving town. If that weren’t the case they had prepared for the worst, although he hoped the worst didn’t end up compromising everything he’s done to reach this point. Or more importantly, his life.

“Nonsense. I’ll be just fine, Chad. In the event things go awry I was sure to schedule the meeting for after sundown. If we don’t return in a timely manner they’ll at least have the advantage of being able to move in under the cover of night. Now, if it’s your own safety your concerned for you can always drop me off at the gate. I won’t hold it against you.”

“My concern isn’t for myself. I know what I signed up for.” None of it sat well with Chad but he added nothing more knowing his personal opinion on the matter was irrelevant.

I-I

While being lead to Ryūken’s office, both Chad and Gin noticed the abnormally large amount of security personnel scatted throughout the home. They discreetly glanced at one another, both wondering if the other was thinking the same thing. The men standing guard outside Ryūken’s office door visually inspected them before letting them pass.

Ryūken stood to greet his guest, extending his hand to Gin. “I’m glad you could find time to meet with me.” He waved his hand at a chair, inviting the other to it.

“Certainly,” Gin smoothed out the front of his suit jacket as he sat. “I’m curious about this urgent matter you wanted to see me about.”

“Good, I see you wish to get straight to the point. Quite frankly, I think Baraggan is dead.”

One strong heartbeat resonated through Gin’s chest but he held a neutral expression, altering it with a believable amount of confusion. “I’m not sure how you drew such a conclusion but I’m happy to say you’re mistaken. He won’t be available until he concludes his trip at the end of the month.”

Ryūken folded his hands together, staring at the other inquiringly. “I told Baraggan he wasn’t a very smart man entrusting someone like you with his money and heart. He did at least have enough sense to keep you in line.”

Gin cocked his head slightly, smiling with an honest ignorance. “Excuse me? I don’t think I understand what you’re implicating.”

“Where’s your monitor, Gin?”

“You mean my cute little anklet?” Gin lifted his leg in full view of Ryūken, adjusting his pants to inspect the sparkling tether around his ankle. “What about it?”

Ryūken’s eyes glanced down at the tether then returned to Gin’s face. “What does it feel like to be electrocuted?”

Gin’s smile began to fade, his mouth forming a tense line.

The reaction gave Ryūken the slightest smirk. “You didn’t know I was aware of its true purpose? You would be shocked, no pun intended, to know some of the things shared with me and a few others in our circle. I’m well aware he trained you like a dog secured in a shock collar.”

Gin shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in his chair but remained quiet and Ryūken took that as incentive to continue.

“Deep down he understood, and agreed with, my ill feelings for your kind. You’re all lying, deceiving, conniving, thieving, uncivilized, despicable animals.”

Chad stepped from his position at the door, coming to stand behind Gin.

Gin put his hand up to stop Chad’s approach and laughed openly at the insults. “Oh my, you sure know how to flatter with words. Think you used enough adjectives there?”

Ryūken ignored the comment. “Maybe I should rephrase my original statement. I know Baraggan is dead.” Ryūken showed his cell phone. “I have a nifty little app here. Baraggan had the same one on his phone.”

Gin could feel his hands getting sweaty, they even trembled slightly. Most were aware he wore the tether since he presented it as a fashion accessory, although in truth its purpose was quite disturbing. Even the accurate rumors it were a tracking device paled in comparison to the truth. He’ll never forget the first time he threatened to leave Baraggan, deciding all the material things weren’t worth the abuse he suffered at the hands of his so called lover. After making the threat, his gifted ankle piece surprisingly generated an excruciating pain that overtook every nerve in his body and dropped him where he stood. Regardless of the emotional distress and painful memories the thing caused, he wore it today for the sake of avoiding suspicion. Now, he was beginning to regret that decision.

“That’s Impossible.” Gin said with a feigned confidence, fearing Ryūken was telling the truth.

“Far from impossible. You see, I only have access to the app under specific circumstances. For instance, if the security pin isn’t entered before the key is used to remove your monitor I receive a notification. A safety measure. When I contacted Baraggan about it he didn’t respond, although that was to be expected since you obtained the key by snatching it off his dead body.”

Gin opened his mouth to refute the claims but found himself at a loss for words and sat back in his chair speechless.

“Oh, you didn’t know about the security code? Of course you didn’t. While you did receive some privileges don’t think too highly of yourself. Baraggan has always kept tabs on his favorite toys before growing tired and disposing of them. You’re the only one bold enough to kill him before your time ran out.” Ryūken pressed a button on his phone and four men entered the office. Two grabbed Chad by each arm, confident that despite his height and bulk the numbers were in their favor. Chad Immediately reacted and with little effort broke free, swinging a hard right hook. When his fist made contact one of the men flew against the office wall and was knocked unconscious, his body slumping to the ground. The remaining three jumped on Chad. As their exertion was being matched, one pulled a gun, pistol-whipping him in the back of the head and successfully subdued him. He then pointed the gun at Gin, who had moved to a standing position, horrified while watching the ordeal but helpless to act.

Ryūken cleared his throat and Gin snapped his head to attention. “Anyway, Gin, I would like for you to volunteer your assistance. You have history with Grimmjow. I don’t think it’s a coincidence I can’t locate him so you can tell me where it is you’re helping him and the others hide. In the meantime, I’ve come to understand this app controls the varying voltage levels to cause pain and the highest setting has enough amps to drop you dead instantly. Shall we start from the bottom and work our way up?”

-_O_-

Yoruichi adjusted her earpiece while keeping an eye on the time. “He’s been in there long enough.”

Kukaku nodded. “I agree. Everyone is ready, we’re just waiting for that boy to get these ear pieces working.”

“I can hear you and my name is Yukio, use it. I only need to test if everything is connected properly and each group can hear me.” A hissing static ensued followed by a long beep. “Everyone should be connected. You all were instructed on how to switch between the channels to talk with members of your own groups and everyone as a whole. Questions?”

“Nah, but I got an announcement.” Grimmjow’s voice crackled over the headpieces. “Glasses might be somewhere inside. Don’t shoot the muthafucka.”

There was a slight pause before Kenpachi’s voice was heard next. “Am I missing something or what the hell is Glasses code for?”

“He means Ryūken’s son, Uryū.” replied Kukaku. “Yoruichi, I thought you warned him to not get involved. Do you think he’s working with his father now?”

Yoruichi carefully considered the situation before answering. “Maybe, however I can’t think of any reason why he would work with his dad. What I saw of his grief was real. Ryūken could’ve forced him home or is holding him captive for all we know. If we run across him it’s better to play it safe and ask first.”

“All that’s fine and dandy,” said Kenpachi “but I need to know what he looks like because I’m putting a cap in the ass of anyone that comes in my path.”

 “I don’t know what you were told,” Yoruichi quickly added, “but only shoot those who pose a threat. Uryū looks similar to Ryūken, only his hair is dark and he’s obviously younger, early twenties. If you have to detain him do so but don’t cause harm.”

Yukio cleared his throat. “I hope all important details are finalized. I’m already in the computer to hijack the security systems and there’s no going back. Once everything is down will you all be ready to move?”

All other conversation ended and everyone took their respective positions before confirming responses came through from all ends.

-_x_-

Gin’s eyes rolled back as he fell to his knees, his upper body slumped forward despite trying to stay vertical through the painful electric shock. Twitching in the aftermath, he tensed when hearing Ryūken’s chair move, expecting the next round of agony.

Ryūken leaned forward, getting a better look at the man collapsed before his desk. “Interesting. To some this might seem barbaric but I find it fitting, especially for someone like you.”

Gin looked up through the fringe sweeping his forehead, the hatred in his eyes conveying his abhorrence for the man. “This game of yours is unfairly one-sided. I thought you had questions, you’re just pressing the button for the hell of it.” he smiled, his expression a mix of humor and pain. “This excites you, doesn’t it? Well, Ryūken the sadist. No surprise there. I bet you’re hard as a rock watching me suffer.”

Ryūken apathetically stared, not moved in any direction by the accusation. “When you’ve had enough you’ll answer without prompt. Well trained dogs perform without provocation.”

As Ryūken’s thumb hovered over the screen of his phone the lights around him flickered to darkness, the only illumination coming from his cell. For good measure he tapped the button on his screen, shooting more jolts of pain into Gin and sending the man groaning and reeling to the floor.

“What happened to the electricity? One of you go and see why the backup generators haven’t activated.” Ryūken directed one of the guards still inside his office. A few moments after hearing his door open then close, some lighting returned although it was minimal in comparison to what it had been. “Put those two in a secure location and I’ll see about them later.” he said in reference to the still unconscious Chad and floor-ridden Gin.

While the men were being drug from his office, he turned attention to the multi-screened security monitors. The system was in the process of rebooting and as the screens began to display footage he noticed something amiss. Instead of viewing live camera feed, short clips of the day’s previous footage played on a consistent loop. He hadn’t yet put his phone down and just as he was getting ready to see about the issue he received an incoming call.  A quick glance at the screen told him it was his head of security and the timing couldn’t have been better. Answering on the second ring, before he could speak into the receiver the panicked voice on the other end had his attention.

“Sir, we have a problem.”

X_X_X

Ichigo impatiently paced the floor. It had been over forty minutes since he texted Uryū and received no response. He was trying to give it a full hour but grew increasingly antsy as the minutes slowly crept by. He knew Uryū wasn’t above ignoring him if he were mad enough, but now wasn’t a time to be petty, hold grudges or whatever problems they had in their friendship. He would keep his word to Grimmjow and not relay any ongoing plans, however that didn’t mean he would sit idly while Uryū unknowingly sat in the midst of danger.

“Screw it,” Ichigo said, hitting the phone icon near Uryū’s name. He waited with bated breath as the ringing began and continued until voicemail picked up. He stated the unspecified urgency of his call to the machine and asked for a call back. He was convinced if Uryū would just text back or answer his phone he could convince the man to meet him somewhere. A restaurant, bookstore, or even a gas station, it didn’t matter. Any excuse, if he could think of it he would use it to get him away from that house. “Damn it! Uryū, call me back ya stubborn jerk.”

A rapping at the bedroom door stole his attention and he clenched the phone, turning towards the sound. “What?” he answered, tone unintentionally harsh as he was riddled with frustration.

“Is it OK to come in?” asked the hesitant voice on the other side.  

Ichigo silently cursed. He didn’t want to be bothered but he also didn’t want to be rude. He wasn’t in his own home after all. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Rangiku opened the door, poking her head inside. She then held up a container of cognac, shaking the bottle. Discouragement ensued when Ichigo eyed the liqueur but expressed no opinion for or against it.  “Well, if alcohol isn’t your thing we have plenty of other options. Name your poison.”

“No thanks,” Ichigo responded flatly.

Disregarding how uninviting Ichigo’s attitude was, Rangiku parked herself on his bed, lying stomach down across the comforter. “Don’t stress yourself, they’re fine.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo slowly exhaled and raked a hand through his hair. “I keep tryin’ to tell myself that but I’m still worried about my friend. I don’t know what’s happening and he hasn’t contacted me back.”

“Your friend Uryū? I’m sure they’ll take precautions to make sure he’ll be safe.”

“I know but I can’t just… just sit around and do nothing.”

“Sometimes doing nothing is the best option. Getting involved at this point could cause more harm than good. Trust them.” Rangiku rolled on her side and invitingly patted the spot beside her.

Ichigo eyeballed the bed then the woman atop it and his face contorted.

Rangiku belted out a laugh. “Please. You’re cute but don’t get the wrong idea. Relax, come talk to me.”

Ichigo relented, sitting on the far corner of the bed. Rangiku uncapped the cognac, took a large gulp then passed the bottle to Ichigo.

X_X_X

Unsettled, Uryū entered his room and slammed the door. It was more than inconvenient to suddenly find himself wandering in total darkness, like inexplicably sucked into a black hole. The problem was only made worse when he nearly misstepped down a flight of stairs as a result. If it weren’t for the activation of an emergency light nearby he may not have made it to his room unscathed. With the amount of money Ryūken has, he found it inexcusable to not have resources to keep consistent electricity. The home had always kept backup generators as far as he knew and since he wasn’t aware of a storm or other external factors the problem had to be internal.

Having left his phone charging, he decided to check-in with the staff to see when power would be fully reinstated. On his way to the nightstand, a thunderous crashing shook his nerves. He stood there, fixed to the floor, afraid to move and wondering what could have caused the noise.  

In the seconds it took to debate if he should go personally investigate the sound, his door flew open.

With a faint light glowing from the hallway, Uryū could make out Shūkurō’s form and switched from being frozen in trepidation to disgruntled. “I already told you to knock before entering my room.”

Shūkurō’s breathing was labored, clearly having run from his previous location. “This is urgent, we’re under attack.”

Uryū stared for several unblinking moments, the words slowly sinking in. “What do you mean by under attack?”

“An armored truck just broke down the front gate, the security system is offline, likely being tampered with, and the generators can’t restore full power, tampering also a likely factor.” Shūkurō quickly summarized.

“A truck is what caused such a ruckus? Who would do such a thing?”

“I don’t know but we need to go, now.” Shūkurō grabbed Uryū by the arm, tugging him into motion.

“Wait a minute.” Uryū snatched away from the other and took quickened steps to his clothes dresser. He dug frantically through one of the drawers until finding the gun hidden there.

-_o_-

Kenpachi rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re a shitty driver, almost fucked around and gave me whiplash.”

“Oh yeah?” Ikkaku drawled, dismissing the man’s complaints. “My homeboy is the better driver but you’re stuck with me tonight. I mean, I only had to drive through a steel barred gate but I’ll try to be more delicate next time.” He understood the reasoning behind being separated into groups but wasn’t sure about being paired with this Kenpachi person.

To take down Ryūken it was decided there would be three divisions. An assault group, a stealth squad and those handling the explosives, technical aspects and medical were stationed together, parked in vans around the property. Ikkaku couldn’t see himself being very stealthy and he had no experience with bombs, technical shit or medicine so he was placed where he was best suited. Unfortunately his group also had the highest possibility of suffering casualties. Knowing this, Renji tried to persuade his friend to sit this job out, convinced the money wasn’t worth the risk. Easy for him to say as he already played his role and sat comfortably at home counting his earnings.

“Yo!” Barked Kenpachi, breaking Ikkaku’s train of thought. “Ready? If not stay back, you’ll just be in the way of me and my men and I’m not responsible if you get killed.”

 “Ikkaku Madarame can hold his own, trust. I don’t need anyone to be responsible for me.”

“Good.” Kenpachi spoke to his team over the earpiece now. “Men! File in and don’t give them a chance to organize or contact reinforcements. Hit ‘em fast and him ‘em hard. This a war so give them hell!”

Having broken down the security gate, several vehicles filed in behind and around them. Kenpachi jumped from the armored truck, laughing hysterically and hooting excitedly towards the sky like a madman. He held an assault rifle aimed and ready and charged towards the front of Ryūken’s estate with a gang of men behind him.

Ikkaku watched this in awe, confusion and a little fright. No one could convince him that man wasn’t a certified nutcase, but witnessing such enthusiasm filled him with the desire to fight. Deciding this would be his last hurrah before walking a straight and narrow path, he reached to the floor and grabbed his sawn-off shot gun. Before it was just a job but now he felt like he was on a mission. Ready for war, as Kenpachi called it, Ikkaku entered the battlefield and charged in behind the others.

-_x_-

Grimmjow turned in his seat, looking out the back window. “The fuck’s goin’ on? I know ain’t a damn thing funny ‘nough for some fool to be out here laughing like they’ve lost their mind.”

“He can laugh, yell, howl or bark or for all I care as long as he gets his job done.” said Yoruichi, parking just outside the gathering of trees to the far side of the property. “The more commotion they make at the front of the house the easier it will be for us out here.”

The car’s occupants emptied onto the manicured grass and Grimmjow took in an eyeful of what Yoruichi referred to as ‘out here’. Although the cluster of trees was dense, in the moonlight he could just make out what seemed to be a walkable path leading to an unseen section of the home.

“We ready?” Grimmjow asked, eager to get the show on the road.

“Yes,” answered Yoruichi. “Since I’m lead follow close behind and don’t get a head of me.”

Grimmjow looked to Shinji, who had been quiet the entire time, evaluating the dark forestry. “Ya better not be scared of the dark or some shit.”

“Man, come on,” said the blond. “It’s just, I don’t fuck wid wildlife. You can be the big balls, never scared type if ya want but a bear don’t give a damn who ya are. One of them jawns come trottin’ out the woods and yer ass ain’t nothin’ but a snack.”

Grimmjow sucked his teeth. “Ol’ scary ass. Better blow smoke on the muthafucka and keep it movin’.”

Yoruichi laughed, though tried to reassure her team. “Don’t worry. There’s no bears or other dangerous creatures in close proximity. Ryūken had good reasons for choosing this particular property. The trees are good camouflage and there's a river half a mile back.”

“Word, Yoruichi, that’s all I wanted to know.” Shinji gave a middle finger to Grimmjow’s back but immediately dropped his hand and smiled unsuspiciously when the thug turned and glanced out the corner of his eyes.

To better highlight their path, Yoruichi adjusted her shoulder mounted flashlight, something all three had been equipped with. They stepped around thick-barked trees until standing in the narrow, barely noticeable path. If the maps they studied the day prior were correct, they had roughly a three hundred yard walk until reaching their destination. They moved with purpose while also keeping a trained ear on their surroundings. When Yoruichi stopped in her tracks the two men behind her froze in an anxious stance.

“Here,” she said, “It should be right here.” She stomped the heel of her boot down on the dirt path and was greeted by a muffled, metallic ting. As the maps coordinates were proving true, she kicked around the dirt until revealing hints of the steel cellar door hidden under it. Reaching into a pouch strapped to her side, she pulled out a small, inconspicuous looking box. With some tinkering she had it connected to the steel then had her team clear the area around the installment. From behind a tree Yoruichi engaged her earpiece.

“Alright, K, we’re ready.”

-_o_-

Although hearing commotion all around, the sound of a blast in the distance couldn’t be ignored. Uryū slowed, turning wearily towards the noise. “Did you hear that?”

Shūkurō also slowed when he realized Uryū was lagging behind. “I hear everything. Now isn’t the time to analyze every sight and sound. Now is a time to keep moving.”

 Uryū heard nothing he said, his thoughts replaying the sound of the blast, the sound of a bomb. He stopped completely, a frown fueled by sad memories and sympathy stretched taut on his face. “Retribution,” he said the word with understanding, only wishing he and others hadn’t gotten caught up in the reckoning. “The perpetrator of Nnoitra’s murder was killed on scene. My father, who masterminded these events, will die by my hand. These men, his blind henchmen, act on my father’s orders. They shouldn’t have to die because he’s too much of a coward to face what he has coming to him. I should have acted sooner and done what I came here to do. No more, this ends now.”

Shūkurō listened, holding his tongue. What Uryū didn’t know about these so-called blind henchmen, is they weren’t so innocent. Most were former gang members, corrupt law enforcement and felons who came to work for Ryūken honing a special set of criminally useful skills or a lot of persuasive muscle. Many of these individuals committed heinous violent acts or murders not under orders but for their own personal gain. He also couldn’t reveal the other’s without revealing himself. Being a master manipulator and specializing in coercion is what secured his position as a mediator. There were quite a few skeletons in his closet. If he had to guess, Uryū wouldn’t respond favorably to that news. Whatever trust was gained would fly right out the window.

“I understand where you’re coming from, but if you end up dead nothing else will matter.” Shūkurō reasoned. It had been his plan to lead them straight to an exit and escape the property. Uryū was adamant about first seeing his father, then they could leave. The fact he hadn’t insisted upon acting or leaving alone felt promising. Of what he wasn’t sure, but a friendship would be an auspicious start.  

Uryū looked down at the gun in his hand, held the textured grip tight and nodded. “You’re right, let’s go.”

O_X_O

“A-And I didn’t even think about it, ya know?” Ichigo drunkenly rocked from side to side as he attempted to tell his story.

Rangiku looked to Yumichika, who sat on the edge of the bed with Ichigo parked on the floor between his legs. The man could only shake his head at the drunken tale as he parted Ichigo’s hair to start the next braid down his scalp.

“So wait, you saw Loly and she had a gun?” Rangiku asked.

“Yup! She pulled the gun like… like padow ya fairy ass motherfuckers! I-I had to protect him soooo I took the bullet.”

Rangiku gasped in disbelief. “Oh my god, you were shot?”

Ichigo nodded, head rolling like a bobble head doll. Holding the bottle of liquor in one hand, he spilled a portion of its contents as he reached around to lift his shirt and show the bullet induced scar.

Mouth agape in shock, the blonde again looked to Yumichika who finally decided to comment. “Honey, there’s no dick good enough in the world to make me want to catch a bullet. Trust and believe. And if I followed correctly they hadn’t even fucked at that point. Girl no, not in this lifetime.”

“But I luv him!” Ichigo yelled, covering his face with his forearm. “I luv him…” he repeated quietly this time, eyes wet and glassy when his arm dropped limply at his side. “since the first time he protected me at the store then ate my muffins.”

Stopping mid braid, Yumichika bent down to study Ichigo’s face. “He ate your what now?”

Rangiku reached over and gently pried the bottle from the red-head’s grip, deciding he had consumed more than enough alcohol. “I’m sure they’ll be back soon and you can tell him how you feel.”

Ichigo shook his head and his entire body rocked from the movement. “He doesn’t luv me.”

Rangiku gave him a sympathetic pat on the knee. “You told him and he didn’t say it in return?”

Ichigo shrugged. “I don’t say it.”

“Then it’s probably an unspoken thing between you two. Grimmjow was never expressive with words, unless he’s being a dick, and you’ve already said it with actions. You let yourself get shot for goodness sakes. Why do men have to make love and relationships so complicated?”

“’Cause,” Ichigo pointed an unsteady finger between the blonde’s eyes, wondering why she had multiple sets of them. “we’re stuuupid.”

Yumichika nodded agreeably. “Ain’t that that truth? I’m an exception, of course, but I’m so glad I’m single. Nobody has time for fuckboys. I have too many stories already.” He cringed as the unwanted memories came flooding back, the type that drive you to drink. “Girl, pass the Courvoisier.”

X_U_X

“I can hardly see shit,” Grimmjow gripped.

“You’re being dramatic,” said Yoruichi, “It’s supposed to be dark, that’s the whole point.” The light sources strung from the ceiling were dim, few and far between but they kept it from being pitch black.

“Right,” added Shinji, “isn’t that why we got goggles?”

Grimmjow squinted through the darkness at the blond. “Ain’t nobody ask you.”

“I’m just sayin’-“

“Shhh…!” Yoruichi shushed her team. “Did you hear that?”

The silence stretched as they strained their ears and listened. Yoruichi put on her night vision goggles and examined their surroundings. There were a few boxes in the corner but the spacious room was mostly bare. Two open hallways on each side led to obscurity. Based on the property information Gin was able to obtain she knew this underground level stretched the span of the mansion. From here there were apparently ways to enter the home although that information didn’t specify where.

“Ryūken’s men could be scouting this level.” She said. “Watch each other’s backs, stay on guard at all times and communicate anything you find.”

With that established, it was decided Grimmjow and Shinji would follow the left hallway while Yoruichi would traverse the right. Everyone double checked their equipment and went their decided ways.

“Yooo, Grimm,”

The thug grunted to the call of his name. He couldn’t see Shinji’s face but could tell by his tone of voice that he was grinning idiotically. 

“Tell me these goggles ain’t dope as fuck? Like some real life Call of Duty shit. I shoulda popped a couple percs, this jawn woulda really been lit.”

“This ain’t no game and those pills are gonna kill yer dumbass.”

“Worries the fellow drug dealer?”

 _“For now,”_ Grimmjow thought. After they finished this business with Ryūken he planned to seriously consider his options. Renji’s talk of becoming straight-laced after seeing too many lives destroyed had imbedded itself firmly in the back of his mind. A tug on his shirt had his attention before he could think too deeply on the matter. Alert with gun raised, he aimed in a one-eighty swoop.

 “My bad, damn” whispered Shinji, raising a hand defensively when Grimmjow’s aim landed on him. “Thought I heard someone up ahead and couldn’t say nothin’ before ya rounded the corner.”

They hugged the wall listening until Grimmjow pointed upwards. The noise was coming from above them. His studying of the map told him they were just under the kitchen. Even if there was an entrance from here it was too far from where he needed to be. He wondered if the assault group had made it to this part of the house or someone with no fucks to give about the current situation was cooking. He imagined himself popping through the floor and scaring the shit out of whomever, watching their food go flying.  

They continued cautiously and Shinji noticed the odd, indecipherable frown at Grimmjow’s mouth. It made him look contemplative, sullen and humored all at once. “Grimm, ya good? Seems like ya got a lot on yer mind. And I never got to say it, but sorry ‘bout Nnoi. He was good peoples.”

Grimmjow tensed, though acknowledged the condolence. “Nah, just focused. Thinkin’ ‘bout turnin’ a muthafucka into swiss cheese.”

Shinji decided it was time to get serious and directed his mind to a similar place.

-_x_-

The bullet whizzed by his face in such close proximity he swore he felt the heat of the metal. Ikkaku took shelter behind a wall to reload his gun and take a much needed breather. On the other side of the foyer, Kenpachi would occasionally pop out and fire upon Ryūken’s men who had the advantaged position on the second story. They’d fire though the railing then take cover, pinning the group to the far sides of the two stairways and forcing them to hide behind any solid structure they could find.  Those that tried to advance the spiral staircases and remove the obstacles had their efforts marked by multiple bullet wounds, their bodies now littering the steps.

He’d seen a few deaths in his lifetime, but for Ikkaku this was nothing short of a hellish nightmare. Although criminal by trade, violent he was not. Renji and he robbed people of their automobiles, not their lives. His enthusiasm from earlier died with the bodies at his feet. His conscious just couldn’t accept this.

“Come on, soldiers!” Kenpachi yelled at his men while firing his gun at the enemies above. “Where are your fucking balls? Surely you’re not losing heart yet. Not to these cowards, they can’t even face us like real men.”

A person seated on the floor beside Ikkaku groaned as he checked his wounds. “He’s gotta be joking. It’s like he’s sayin’ they’re not willin’ to dive head first into death. Nobody’s that crazy.”

“Exactly,” agreed Ikkaku. “If I had their advantage I wouldn’t be givin’ it up any time soon either.”

“They could have families, like me. I wanna build a better life for my kid. Thought this job would be fast money. To think, I’ll probably never see her again.” the man winced as he pressed a hand to his bleeding abdomen. “Guess I should’ve stuck to hostin’ house parties.”

Sympathy began to well up within Ikkaku for the parent. The guy had taken a shot to the leg and was bleeding from the stomach. “Don’t give up yet. There’s a medical van parked in the yard.”

“Easier said than done, I won’t make it out the front door without gettin’ sprayed. At least we still get paid if we die. Money will go straight to my baby girl, too bad her mom ain’t shit. So much for dreams of movin’ out the hood and filin’ for full custody. Heh,” he wheezed a laugh. “Sorry, ain’t usually this talkative.”

Ikkaku dropped his shotgun and picked up a nearby AR-15. The rifle was different than what he was accustomed to but it had better range. “Can ya stand?”

“Probably,” He struggled until Ikkaku reached out his hand, helping him to his feet.

“Next time our guys make an opening I’ll cover ya so you can head outside.”

“That’s risky, you don’t even know me.”

“Been doin’ risky shit my whole life. ‘Bout time it be somethin’ to benefit another. My granddad was forced to raise me because my pops was in the streets, streets that eventually killed him. Go see your kid and give her that life ya dream of.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ikkaku. Yours?”

“Coyote, but my friends call me Starrk. I appreciate this, Ikkaku.”

Ikkaku nodded. “Get ready, they’re reloadin’ on the other side.”

Kenpachi appeared from behind his cover. “Eat lead, motherfuckers!” he grinned as his M16 ate away pieces of the wooden banister.  

Rifle trained on the stairs, Ikkaku moved into the open. “Let’s go!” he yelled over the gun fire and Starrk moved into position behind him. He crossed the foyer with Starrk limping at his back to keep the pace.

They made it to the front doors and Starrk eagerly crossed the threshold. “When this is over, look me up.”

The second Ikkaku glanced over his shoulder to make sure Starrk was in the clear gunfire ceased. He turned around to the arrival of several men on the second floor and aimed his rifle. Though cover was only a few feet away, moving and shooting was proving more than he could handle. He managed to take down two of the men, though not before the others riddled him with bullets. Finished reloading his gun, Kenpachi killed the remainder visible behind the banister while they were focused on their target. He then ran to Ikkaku’s side, pulling the man behind a flipped table.  

“You’re a damn fool, Ikkaku Madarame, but a brave man.” Kenpachi squeezed his shoulder. “You just created the opening we needed. Rest easy, soldier.”

Ikkaku watched with fading vision as members of their team advanced up the stairs and further into the home. In a small victory they had taken the foyer, even though it would cost him his life. Still, knowing he helped a father reunite with his child he could at least face his final moments with a smile. ~~~~

-_o_-

He wasn’t shocked to find blood at the source of the ache drying in a thick, tacky ring around the broken skin. Pain convened in Chad’s scull as he pressed a hand to the side of his head. With effort he pushed off the floor, feeling dizzy in the sitting position.

“Are you alright, Chad?” Gin was kneeling at his side.

“I just need to walk it off.”

“You’re one tough cookie, I’m sure. However, I think its best that you see medical as soon as possible.” Gin rose off his knees. “I wonder if they’ll play nice and let us out of here soon?”

Chad scanned his surroundings. There wasn’t much in terms of light, but it was enough to showcase the fact they were in a different location. “A bedroom?” Despite waking on a hard floor there was a neatly made bed along with other fitting furnishings.

“Yes, a guest bedroom possibly. Cozy, but I believe we’ve overstayed our welcome. I tried the door but it locks from the outside. Maybe if we’re lucky one of ours will stumble across us. With all the ruckus I hear I know they’ve successfully infiltrated the building.”

Tuning out the hammering in his head, Chad slowly stood on his feet. He tried the handle first, still locked. Next was pressing near the frame, testing the wood. “Sturdy,” he noted, backing away from the door. Then, with a running start plowed into it like a battering ram. “but so am I.”

Gin stared in wonder at the splintered wood where lock plates were once bolted to the frame. The door had busted open on impact and slammed loudly against the wall behind it. “Sturdy indeed, Mr. Sado.”

Chad returned from the hallway rolling his shoulder. “It’s clear,”

Gin looked from one end of the hall to the other, pointing his chin in the direction from which they were dragged, commenting how it was best they head the opposite way. While no stranger to traversing a large home, the unfamiliarity of Ryūken’s residence made it feel maze-like from the sheer number of doors, intersections, halls and stairways. Having the main source of electricity extinguished didn’t make matters easier but did help to provide a sense of security. At least they weren’t in the open and under bright lights.

Rounding a corner, the pounding of footsteps had Chad backing himself and Gin behind the wall. As a show of good faith he hadn’t carried his pistol to the meeting with Ryūken. Gin’s idea. Being unarmed, he knew it were best to avoid any confrontation. Peering discreetly around the corner, he observed at least three gun-wielding men running through a doorway.

Gin gasped, which caused Chad to spin in concern. What he saw was the silver haired man stroking a vase.

“What a gem,” Gin admired. “I would love to have something similar in the dining hall, although a remodel might be in order.”

While well aware of his employer’s equable nature, to see the man distracted by a piece of porcelain during a time like this was mind-boggling. People were fighting, and likely dying, maybe yards away and Gin was thinking about remodeling his dining room.

“No sudden movements.” instructed an approaching voice.

Despite the warning Chad spun again, putting himself directly in front of Gin to block anything or anyone from having direct contact with him. The gun pointed their way was the first thing he noticed. The one holding the gun looked notably thin compared to the rest of Ryūken’s suit wearing muscle. He then noticed the second person behind the first and found himself squinting through the soft lighting.

 “I know you,” said Chad.

“Know is too intimate a word but we have seen each other around, yes.” Uryū tried to step from around Shūkurō but had his path immediately blocked.

“Stay behind me,” instructed Sukuro, “You don’t know if they have weapons.”

Ignoring him, Uryū took a few steps closer. “It’s obvious they don’t.”

“You don’t know that. Stop being naïve and just follow my lead.”

“Were they in the possession of weapons do you honestly believe they would walk these halls unarmed? Use common sense and lower your gun so we can all talk civilly.”

Gin looked around the wall of a man in front of him to get a better view of the two disputing. “My word, you’re the spitting image.”

“Excuse me?” questioned Uryū.

Gin too took a few steps closer despite the disapproving grunt from Chad. “You’re Uryū I take it?”

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Uryū assessed the curious other. “And who wants to know?”

Shūkurō had considered apprising Uryū of Ryūken’s business dealings, those in his inner circle and other pertinent particulars. The opportunity never presented itself and frankly he didn’t want to unload more information on Uryū than was necessary. Holding on to these details could also be used as collateral. Although Gin is someone he wished he made time to discuss. “That’s Gin Ichimaru. I’ll tell you more about him later.” he then addressed the man himself. “How did you manage to make it to this part of the house?”

“I had a play date with Ryūken. A little talk, a little torture then locked in a room.”

Uryū was appalled. “Tortured and locked in a room? I’m very sorry, my father is… well, you’ve met him. I take it you know something about this current state of madness?”

It annoyed Shūkurō the way Gin silently smiled, not denying or admitting his participation in anything. “Talking is pointless. Of course he knows something. If anything, he’s the only one who has the means to orchestrate such a large scale assault like this. You know how I feel about Ryūken but he could have a good reason for locking them away. We should do the same until this mess is over.”

“Enough,” Uryū hissed. “that’s cruel, especially when they haven’t personally tried to harm us. Gin, was it? My words probably mean nothing but I would like you to know I don’t condone what my father did to you. I can’t apologize on his behalf but I do fully intend to rectify this matter. Personally.”

Gin studied the dark-haired Ishida. “I think I understand now. You remind me of Ichigo. I sense good vibes from you as well.”

Uryū perked at the mention of his best friend, though the excitement lasted only briefly. Ichigo hasn’t felt like much of a friend the last couple of weeks. Nonetheless he still cared deeply for the man. “Have you spoken with him? Is he well?”

“Oh yes he’s quite well. And safe, if you’re wondering. I think it would be best if you got to a secure location also.”

“Thanks for your concern, but I have something to do first. Shūkurō, see them out.”

Shūkurō balked at the order. “See them out? I’m not a butler. I’m also not leaving your side.”

Chad grew tired of standing around wasting time. Someone with ideals that mimicked Shūkurō’s could round the corner at any second. He wasn’t interested in seeing if Uryū would still play peace keeper if he and his opinion were outnumbered. “We don’t need an escort. Just tell us the way from here.”

Shūkurō didn’t respond until Uryū turned to him with a confirming nod. He thought the decision foolish, keeping Gin could provide multiple advantages, but as dictated he gave the men instructions that would loop them back around to the foyer. It should be relatively safe, as last he heard the outsiders had gained control of that area. Outsiders he was confident were hired by Gin.

Before parting ways Gin extended his hand to Uryū. “I appreciate your kindness. I’d like to think we’ll run into each other again. Under more pleasant circumstances, that is.”

 “Yes, we very well could.” Uryū accepted, shaking the offered hand. “I have to ask, if you do have influence over what’s happening could you call off the attack? There has to be a way to reach an understanding without bloodshed.”

“Unfortunately it’s out of my hands at this point and Ryūken isn’t interested in reaching… understanding. There were numerous attempts to resolve this peacefully and, well, I believe you’re a firsthand witness to Ryūken’s response to those peaceful attempts.” When Uryū’s eyes fell to the space between their feet, he added, “My apologies, I’m sure this is a difficult situation but it’s nothing against you personally of course. We are only a threat to those that are a threat to us.”

“I see.” Uryū expected an answer along those lines. What he hadn’t expected was for him to quote Yoruichi’s words to him verbatim. That verified his assumptions after hearing the bomb earlier. Although, he had no idea if Gin was a sincere person and had no time to gauge whether or not that was the case. “I recognize my father isn’t the most negotiable of men so I applaud your attempts… Take care.”

“Goodbye- Oh! Before you go, I have a question.”

Uryū stopped, looking expectantly over his shoulder.

“Would you mind telling me where your father procured this lovely vase?”

-_o_-

Uryū approached his father’s office, puzzled to see no one standing guard. “Right now security should be heavier than ever. Has he left the building?”

Shūkurō scrolled through his phone. “Not based on the last update I received. The staff is either busy fighting or security understandably doesn’t want to reveal that information.”

Just outside the open doorway, Uryū faltered feeling like an unseen force forbade him from proceeding further. His hands felt clammy and he palmed the wall as he began to shake. Already his nerves were getting the better of him and he still had yet to face his father. How was he supposed to kill the man if he couldn’t even get a grip on his emotions? He felt the presence of another and remembering he wasn’t alone lifted a fragment of his hesitations. Shūkurō entered first and he immediately followed behind. 

Ryūken had an uncharacteristically smug grin as he acknowledged the men. “If you’re alarmed, I assure you despite the current state of disarray everything is under control. The head of security has been fighting for dominance over the control systems after they were seized. Thus far he’s succeeded in restoring the cameras and soon the lights and electronic locks will follow.” He then beckoned Uryū over. “My son, come and look.”

Uryū glanced wearily at Shūkurō before rounding his father’s desk to watch the monitors that held the older man’s attention.

Ryūken was enthralled by what was happening on screen as if watching one of his favorite movies. “I’ve instructed him to take his time with the lights, let them believe they have an advantage. It’s entertaining watching the rats scurry about.”

Uryū was aghast as he watched the nightmarish scenes before him. There were black, unfamiliar vans all over the front lawn, groups engaged in gun altercations, and what was once an immaculate foyer polished in shades of cream and gold resembled a battlefield. Then, the injured. He couldn’t even comprehend the countless number of people bloodied or lying suspiciously still throughout.

“T-This is… its horrendous…” He’d seen more than enough and wished he turned away sooner as the last monitor showed a live person take a bullet straight through the head. The resulting gore of the scull shattering impact nearly made him faint. A cry choked off in his throat as he whirled away from the grisly scene, both hands trembling over his mouth. 

“As soft as ever, I see.” Ryūken quietly remarked, focused on the screens.

Uryū made it to the far corner of the office before regurgitating the contents of his stomach. He hadn’t realized Shūkurō came to aide him, whispering unnoticed words of concern at his side until he shoved past the man to face his father.

“You are a fucking monster.” His voice waned with the sentiment and a stream of tears ran down his face. “How can you sit there so detached watching people die knowing all this is because of you. They are here to kill you.” 

“I have unbreachable security doors ready to activate in the off chance they make it past a certain point. If the number of my expendables plunge, I have several men on the force who I can contact to clean up the remaining trespassers. So of course I’m not concerned. There is no danger to my life and never was.”

“Are you sure about that?” questioned Uryū.

Ryūken did a double take once realizing Uryū was pointing a gun at him, though shaky was his aim. His eyes tapered at the weapon and he folded his hands in his lap. “You would have the gall to point a gun at me? Your own father? I might be impressed were you acting less on useless emotions.” He then gave Shūkurō a displeased glare over his glasses. “And you? What good are you if you haven’t managed to control him yet? I have no use for someone that can’t perform their duties.”

“Uryū,” Shūkurō spoke calmly behind him. “Listen to me, it’s not what you think.”

“Just shut up!" Uryū had heard enough. "Both of you. I don’t… I don’t even care anymore.”

Ryūken’s stare bounced coolly between the two men as he shifted in his chair. One would assume the tension in the atmosphere, which was dense enough to choke on, would make anyone fidget. Shūkurō, however, had better observation skills to recognize it was more than that, and didn’t miss how Ryūken’s hands casually slipped under his desk. He also didn’t miss how that stare eventually settled on his lowered weapon as opposed to the one pointing directly at him.

Shūkurō acted quickly, raising his gun and firing three shots at Ryūken the second the man swiftly spun in his chair. He had tried to honor the younger Ishida’s wishes but knew, as well as Ryūken, that Uryū, who was indeed emotionally driven, didn’t seem capable of actually pulling the trigger.

Uryū merely stood in stunned silence, startled after Shūkurō’s unexpected weapon discharge and staring at the holes in the back of his father’s chair.

“Don’t look,” Shūkurō instructed as he carefully maneuvered around the desk. The last thing he wanted was for Uryū to have an image of his father’s dead body forever ingrained in his memory. Except, there was no body and no Ryūken. Upon closer inspection he saw the shots hadn’t penetrated the other side of the high-back chair. “Bulletproof?” Kicking the chair to the side, under the wide office desk a gaping, dark hole was displayed squarely in the floor, large enough for a person to easily slip through.

-_x_-

Ryūken brushed the arms of his suit jacket as he tried to push the disgrace of his actions to the recesses of his mind. While he always tried to stay two steps ahead, it hadn’t seriously occurred to him that he would be forced to use the trapdoor. Yet here he was picking himself up off the floor after shamefully diving through it like a fleeing animal. Brought to such actions by someone on his payroll to boot.

When all this was over, in his mind he had envisioned walking through his front door with pride, stepping over the corpses of the defeated and prove a point to anyone else who considered waging war against him. Instead he was slinking in the dark, traveling underground to a secret escape route. Not his preferred angle but at least he would live to gloat another day.

He hadn’t the chance to grab his cell phone otherwise he would’ve used it to cut the darkness. Now he wished he’d gotten around to installing more emergency lights. The room was an unused extension of his office, mainly to hold safe boxes and supplies. The supplies are what he needed and it didn’t require light to find them. He walked straight with his arm extended until touching the wall. With that as a guide, he palmed along the surface until finding the door. Here is where he knew a duffle bag was stationed nearby for a quick and easy pick up should he be in a rush. Which, he wasn’t. Only a select few of his men were familiar with the underground passage and Shūkurō wasn’t one of them. Even if he did know of its existence the man wasn’t audacious or irrational enough to traverse dark, unknown territory.

Ryūken rifled through the bag. Finding and making use of the flashlight first, he then armed himself with the pistol, one that looked similar to the one Uryū toted. A bit of pride bloomed within him recalling how his son threatened his life.  So much misplaced passion and wasted potential. In his younger years he tried every approach to properly rear the boy. Spoiling him, tough love, parenting from a distance, manipulation, none of it worked to shape him into the best man he knew he should be. His mother likely would’ve had an easier time raising him. Apart from the fact the dead can’t rear children. Although none of that mattered now because in the end it all failed. No more hopes that his son would eventually come to his senses and they could continue building the Ishida empire together. Uryū’s life choices, and whether or not he made it out this ordeal alive, were no longer his concern.

Having everything he needed from the duffle bag, Ryūken started towards the exit.

-_o_-

“So Grimm, whose name ya put on the contract to get the money if ya get murked?”

Grimmjow almost didn’t respond to Shinji. You don’t ask personal questions like that. “Nobody, cus I ain’t dyin’.”

“Simple as that? Guess I shouldn’t be thinkin’ ‘bout the worst case scenario. I don’t wanna see nobody go down, too many of our peoples are here. You, Gin, Chad, Yoruichi… Lawd, that jawn is fine as hell. Mmm…”

While bothersome, the comment was ignorable. What Grimmjow couldn’t disregard were the obnoxious sexual grunts being made beside him. “Shin… I’m’a need for you to cut that shit. Plus, ain’t ya ‘posed to be a fruit?”

“Why the hell does everyone keep sayin’ that?” Shinji asked, genuinely baffled. “It was only six times and I was either drunk or high, so it doesn’t count.”

Considering his own struggles Grimmjow knew he was the last person that should judge, but it was obvious the blond was in serious need of a reality check. Also, a muzzle. Shinji was one of his few close associates, but he didn’t prefer the man’s company socially because he talked entirely too much.

Shinji sighed heavily and changed the subject. “Maaan, nobodies down here. Thought there’d be more action than this.” They were coming up on a three-way intersection. He leapt to the middle, aiming strategically down each path in a continuous rotation. “All clear, team. Move out.”

Grimmjow kept straight, shaking his head at the shenanigans as he passed.

Shinji lingered, noticing a strange glow down one of halls that appeared bright green through his goggles. “Is that Yoruichi’s flashlight?”

“Why would she use a light if she got goggles?” It was a fair question, one Grimmjow didn’t receive an answer to. A glace behind revealed that quickly Shinji was out of sight. He began to backtrack when the pop of gunfire echoing through the hall pushed him to sprint just short of entering the intersection. When trying to advance further a bullet chipping his corner of the wall gave him pause. After the shots ended it allowed for a peek around the corner and he saw Shinji braced against the wall aiming at a lone flashlight still gently rolling on the floor.

Grimmjow vigilantly entered the hall. “Shin?”

“It… wasn’t Yoruichi.” The blond slid down the wall as soon as the words left his mouth.

Grimmjow was at his side helping him sit up against the surface. He were about to ask if he were hit until seeing the front of the man’s shirt.

Struggling for breath, Shinji pushed the weighty vision wear off as if it would make his inhales easier. “It’s bad?”

Grimmjow didn’t answer. Instead he looped his arm under Shinji’s to wrap it around his back, lifting him to his feet.

Shinji coughed and the taste of blood overwhelmed his tongue. Weakly he dropped from Grimmjow’s hold and slid back down the wall. “It’s bad.”  

“Which is why I’m tryna get ya outside. Get yer ass up.” Grimmjow tried helping him again, the blond wincing in pain throughout the attempt.

Shinji feebly resisted. “I won’t make it.”

“Then I’ll tell medical to bring their asses here.” Grimmjow touched a hand to his earpiece.

“A waste.” Shinji coughed again and blood trickled down the side of his mouth. “I’m dead.”

“Yer dead when yer sittin’ up here still talkin’? The fuck ya mean? Just shut up and save yer energy.”

Shinji laughed, though it was lost before becoming audible. “Damn,” Breathing became such an effort he had to pause between each word. “I can tell Loly I’m sorry.” He then closed his eyes and used what was left of his strength to point down the hall.

Grimmjow looked and saw the flashlight, it flickered. He turned back to Shinji whose head was slumped against the wall. His breaths were short and shallow and he knew the man wouldn’t survive long, with or without medical attention. He had seen enough gunshot victims to recognize their final moments. Even though he tried to detach himself emotionally it was always different with someone he knew personally. Taking the blond’s hand, he curled it into a fist then bumped it with his own.

The thug would smoke one in reverence of Shinji later. Right now he would find whoever it was that shot him. He saw the flashlight again, it shone brightly placing a spotlight on one of the paths as if pointing the way. Once within range he took out the light with one stomp from his Timberland boot. Looking at the shattered pieces, he noticed dark droplets staining the floor. They continued in a path that he followed to a room. He could hear motion inside, cloth ripping, liquids swishing, a hiss of pain. He gingerly peered in to assess the situation.

The various shades of green through his night vision goggles faded to a blur and were replaced with a hot, fiery red. Grimmjow leaned from the room and took several deep breaths to help restore his vision. He checked the room again to verify and was shaking with anticipation. It was Ryūken, alone, blindly attending to a shot to the thigh in the dark. Now he was digging through a bag for something but Grimmjow wouldn’t give him the chance to find whatever it was.

 Grimmjow lunged into the room, startling Ryūken, and planted his boot in the middle of his face. There was a satisfying crunch of bone and glass upon contact and the man’s head flew back, bouncing off the wall. Before he could recover Grimmjow grabbed him by the shirt, sending several of the buttons flying off, and threw him to the middle of the room. He stepped on his throat, savoring the sound of him gasping for air through busted lips until Ryūken reached for something in his suit jacket and plunged it in his calf. Grimmjow jumped back, but was still in range when Ryūken swept a leg behind his feet to send him off-balance and flat on his back. The fall pushed the sharp instrument deeper in to his leg. So high on adrenaline he didn’t feel the pain but it did hinder his ability to move freely. As he was yanking free what was a letter opener, Ryūken leaped in the direction from which he was thrown, scrambling in the dark room. The glint of the gun caught Grimmjow’s attention when Ryūken’s hands brushed it, recognized it and got a firm hold on the grip.

Two shots rang out, their sound amplified in the confines of the underground room and left a ringing to the ears. Ryūken’s finger twitched as he watched the shadowy figure lying before him.

The ringing passed and several, silent seconds stretched on in what felt like an eternity.

“…jow? Grimmjow! Answer me, damnit.”

“Yeah…” Grimmjow tuned his earpiece to ensure he was heard clearly. “I’m good, Yoruichi.”

“You jackass, what took you so long to respond?” Yoruichi’s voice was so heavy with relief it cracked as she spoke. “I found Shinji…. He’s dead. I just heard more gun fire. What’s going on?”

Grimmjow jumped to his feet and walked over to Ryūken. He kicked the gun out of range, being sure to step on a few of his fingers in the process, and watched the way the material of his light colored jacket absorbed and darkened with blood from the two holes in his back. “Found Ryuken, it’s over.”

He ignored further questions as he kicked Ryūken over so he was lying on his back. “Ya betta not be dead yet, bitch.” Straddling the man’s legs and removing his goggles, he enabled his mounted flashlight and turned it to shine predominantly on his own face.

Ryūken’s eyes bugged at the frightening illumination of Grimmjow’s features, which were twisted with so many negative emotions he almost appeared inhuman. Yet, he was smiling. It was so dark, warped, bitter and victorious. The look of a man finally getting his revenge.

Grimmjow watched the way Ryūken silently regarded him, how he looked shocked and terrified then his gazed narrowed with disgust. He could practically sense what the man was feeling. Awareness, knowing he’s about to die produced fear in his heart, the fear he could see in his eyes. That death at the hands of someone you detest, that would make anyone hateful. He wanted it all to sink in, for that realization to be as blunt and painful as the bullets that ripped into his body. Grimmjow’s smile turned menacing.

“The two in yer back, those are for Nnoi. This is for Shin.” The barrel of the gun was placed over Ryūken’s stomach and fired once. He jerked from the impact and hissed in pain through bared teeth. Before his body could settle, Grimmjow fired another through his ribs. The man heaved and sputtered blood that speckled his glasses and hair and ran liberally from his mouth. It joined the blood coagulating from his broken nose to make such a mess of his face he was unrecognizable. Ryūken’s eyes rolled upward, a state of unconsciousness ready to overtake him until Grimmjow slapped him hard across the face. 

“Where ya goin’, muthafucka? We ain’t done.” Grimmjow removed the broken, stained glasses that sat lopsided over Ryūken’s eyes. The thug hunkered over him and pressed the gun to his chest. “My moms. Remember her?”

Ryūken’s expression shifted as if staring in the face of a ghost. Those memory conjuring blue eyes, the same eyes as a woman whose betrayal left burning hatred and a wound so deep he was still nursing it until this very day. A woman he also once let in to his heart and loved without limits. How could he ever forget? His lips, swollen and bloodied, trembled as he hovered at the edge of death and struggled to speak.

Grimmjow scarcely registered the words as his finger tightened around the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say how terrified I was of writing this chapter? So much going on, it felt like a fic within itself. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I (after I found my pace) enjoyed writing it.


	23. Chapter 23

The not-so-gentle hands waking Ichigo were a reminder he drank entirely too much. Each movement had him imagining his head were a basketball being dribbled up a hard surface. It was probably Rangiku, as he recalled waking at one point to find her passed out across his legs. His feet had gotten so numb under her he’d been having a nightmare they were being amputated.

Ichigo blindly fought the force from under the comforter. “Just go lie back down on the other side of the bed.” His cover was then ripped away. The sun shining brightly through the open curtain didn’t mix well with his hangover-induced light sensitivity. He slowly opened his eyes to see Grimmjow scanning the bed, those alert blue eyes then settled at the top of his head. Despite knowing sudden movements wouldn’t be pleasant, he leapt from the bed and wrapped arms around his man. The joy and relief he felt outweighed the aftereffects of a night spent overdrinking.

“Sup, boo.” Grimmjow pried the arms from around his neck to get another look at Ichigo and rubbed one of the braids between his thumb and forefinger. “Why?”

 “Huh?” Ichigo ran a hand along his hair. “I don’t really remember, but Yumichika probably did it. He and Rangiku hung out with me last night.”

Grimmjow snorted. “More like they fed yer ass booze ‘till ya was drunk ‘nough to tell all our damn business.”

“Or maybe they’re just nice people who wanted to keep me company because I was worried about everyone.” Suddenly remembering his best friend, Ichigo fretfully griped Grimmjow’s shoulders. “Uryū?” Before the man could answer he was stumbling out of bed and looking for his cell.

“He aight. Ain’t nobody touch ‘im.”

At that point Ichigo was already reading his phone, a missed call and single text from the one in question. “Says he’s busy and will call me again later.” It was dated for that morning so at least it was recent. “Uryū’s dad, is he…”

“Dead as the presidents in my wallet.”

Ichigo was silent for a long minute. “He probably needs me right now. I have to go see him.” He went around diligently collecting his things until bending to pick up his duffle bag sent pain shooting from one temple to the other. As bad as the headache was, he was glad to not be overly nauseous or have some of the other less tolerable hangover symptoms. “Damn, my head is really killing me, though.”

“Cus them braids are squeezin’ the life out yer scalp. Ain’t had no business lettin’ another man in yer hair anyway. Take ‘em out and let your damn brain exhale.”

“Very funny.” Ichigo said flatly. “Pretty sure the alcohol had somethin’ to do with it.”

 “No shit. Stop standin’ there lookin’ dumb and make a move.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, a painful action but he wanted to convey his annoyance. “Your in a hurry now?”

“Always were,” Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo’s keys of the nightstand. “Yer not drivin’.”

There were no protests; it wasn’t as if he felt like getting behind the wheel of a car. When they entered the halls, he was shocked by the number of people flooding the space. Some were carrying boxes or suitcases, others just barely avoiding a collision, all seeming to move with a purpose. He quietly observed while remaining close to Grimmjow’s back to avoid the madness.

They eventually came upon Gin who stood directing most of these people. Although occupied, he did step aside briefly to address him on their way out.

“Ichigo my dear, it was a joy having you and I want you to know you’re welcome here anytime. However, anytime does not include right now. I’m sure that lovely man of yours will explain.”

“I understand and I appreciate you letting me stay.” Ichigo then looked to Grimmjow like he expected the explanation that very moment.

Grimmjow simply kept moving as Gin was clapping his hands to gather attention.

“You all don’t have to go home,” he announced, “but you certainly have to get the hell out of here. Preferably sooner rather than later. Please use the exits to the rear and have a nice day.”

-v_v-

“What was that about?” asked Ichigo once arriving at his car.

“Badges comin’ through, Feds too maybe. Some of those fools got warrants or they’re in possession of illegal shit. Gin has to handle that. Put on a show for the highfalutin and bribe the corrupt.”

In other words, Ichigo was beginning to comprehend why they were in a rush to depart.

With Grimmjow at the wheel of his coupe, Ichigo became weary when they missed a necessary turn in reaching the Ishida estate. “Where are we headed? Don’t forget I want to see Uryū.”

“Can’t. He already told ya he’s busy. There’s lots of shit to do and ain’t nobody allowed on the property.”

“He just lost his dad. He shouldn’t be alone right now and can’t handle everything by himself.”

“My boss, Yoruichi and a couple others are helpin’ out. They’re tied up over there. Call ‘im if ya think I’m bullshittin’.”

Ichigo did just that. “It’s not that I don’t believe you…” he said while the call connected.

Uryū picked up after a few rings. The conversation was brief with him reiterating what he said in the text before hanging up. Satisfied with at least hearing his friend’s voice, Ichigo laid back against the headrest, then realized,  

“Ya never said where we’re goin’?”

“Vacation.” The thug replied

Ichigo’s eyes shot open. “Really? For how long? I didn’t pack for a trip.”

“Don’t matter.”

Vacation with Grimmjow? The gist of it sounded fantastic but he had no idea what the thug deemed a vacation. He imagined anything from sipping tropical flavored iced teas at a resort to smoking weed in a hotel room. The man’s company is what he wanted more than anything so the location truly didn’t matter. Besides, it had been a rough last few weeks and a vacation was much deserved. Ichigo recognized he’s mostly been a bystander but it still hurt to see those he loves suffer. Uryū and Grimmjow both lost Nnoitra, a lover to one and like a brother to the other. Each also lost a parent. The incidents so close together they had no time to grieve for one before coping with the loss of the other.

Ichigo’s hand found a place on Grimmjow bicep and rubbed the strong muscle through the thick black shirt. “I’m here, Grimm.”

The thugs eyes shifted confusedly before going back to the road. “Leave the damn liquor alone. When ya drink ya act… off.”

“It’s not that. Just a reminder you can talk to me about everything.”

Grimmjow understood. “Maybe later.”

They drove in silence, Ichigo pleased that the thug allowed his caress without complaint. Eventually they passed the city limits, amplifying his curiosity about their destination. He was tempted to again ask where they were headed until the car slowed on a street lined with beach homes.

“You rented this?” Ichigo asked as they parked in the driveway of a rose-colored abode.

“Gin owns these, but it’s ours right now. Come on,”

Ichigo noticed how Grimmjow still seemed to be in a rush, nearly jogging to and unlocking the front door before he could even leave the car. Once he entered, Grimmjow was brushing passed him to leave. 

“Fridge’s stocked. Get ya grub on, drink, do whatever ya gotta do.” Grimmjow then handed off a travel sized pack of aspirin. “Ain’t nobody got time for no hangover.”

The door closed in Ichigo’s face. It was so abrupt he hadn’t the chance to ask the man when he would return. No matter. Grimmjow was correct, no one had time for a hangover and he needed something on his stomach to help ease his symptoms. Inside the fridge there were makings for a sandwich and he also grabbed a couple bottles of water. Grimmjow hadn’t returned by the time he had that plus the pills down so he decided to explore the upstairs.

It had three bedrooms and a bathroom. One room, obviously the master, was significantly larger than the others and contained its own restroom. Gin’s influence was evident, as the room was styled in similar fashion to the guest quarters he recently left. Lastly he inspected the bathroom to find clean towels and toiletries. Deciding on a shower, he had almost completed his braids removal when the sound of company drifted in from the bedroom. Speeding the process along, he was soon wrapped in a towel and stepping out the bathroom amongst a cloud of steam.

Grimmjow laid in the middle of the bed in nothing but boxer briefs and a pair of black socks. He stared at the ceiling while holding a fat blunt between his fingers. Ichigo watched the way smoke crept through barely parted lips, adding to the wispy blanket of haze that hovered over him before dispersing throughout the room. He quietly approached.

Grimmjow’s head remained stationary but his eyes did shift to Ichigo. “How ya feelin’?”

“Better. Eating helped and so did the shower. I just realized I left my clothes in the car though.”

“Won’t need ‘em.” Grimmjow reached out his hand. “Lose the towel.”

He untied the towel at his waist to let it drop to the floor. Taking the offered hand, he climbed on the bed and let the thug guide him until he was lying against his side.

“My hair is still wet.” said Ichigo.

Grimmjow didn’t seem to mind, even as a few droplets clinging to the orange ends fell to land on his shoulder. He took a heavy hit from his blunt then raised it to the sky.

“R. I. P. You were a real one.” He passed to Ichigo.

Ichigo wondered to whom they were giving final respects, but wouldn’t ask. He hit the joint, added to the haze around them, then passed it back. Dropping his head to rest on the man’s shoulder, he let fatigue close his eyes.

-

Ichigo roused, finding himself in a state of partial wakefulness. He realized night had fallen, the moon casted a glow through the window that outlined Grimmjow’s frame beside him. Focus still concentrated on the ceiling, the fiery orange tip of the lit joint occasionally bobbed and sizzled when he inhaled.

“What’s on your mind?” asked Ichigo.

“Nothin’. I’m chillin’”

It was obviously more than that. The man didn’t realize how telling his pensive frown was. “Grimm, please don’t start shuttin’ me out again.”

“Then shut up and I’ll show ya when I’m good’n ready.”

Ichigo waited but wasn’t surprised when Grimmjow had nothing to show, other than his profile as he continued eyeing the ceiling. He decidedly plopped his head back down and again closed his eyes. Shortly after he felt his body being rolled, his eyes only half opened when kisses trailed down his neck. They continued to his chest, the light flicking of a tongue over his nipple caused a slight arch in his back and bolt of pleasure to his cock.

So this is what was on Grimmjow’s mind? Ichigo had his doubts, but they were quickly licked away. As the man hovered over him, he placed a hand on his back to press him closer. Weight settled between Ichigo’s spread thighs and his sprouting erection grew against Grimmjow’s stomach. It was the other nipple that now had Grimmjow’s attention, Ichigo’s head rolled against the pillow and he swept his fingers through the soft, blue strands. There was a whimper of disappointment when the man stopped, though he couldn’t complain because Grimmjow had been quite attentive to the buds.

 “Ain’t no comin’ back from this.” the thug whispered.

Ichigo lifted his head to peer down, though he couldn’t meet Grimmjow’s eyes. He relaxed back on the pillow. “What do ya mean?”

The weight above him lifted and the answer had him flying up off the bed as his manhood was firmly suctioned in to a warm, wet receptacle. The shock would’ve made him clear the mattress completely if Grimmjow wasn’t firmly holding his hips. He shot up to a sitting position to confirm that distinctive feeling and could have passed out at the visual of his cock resting in Grimmjow’s mouth.

Grimmjow release Ichigo’s cock with a pop, paying attention to the way the erection, now glistening with his saliva, bobbed in the air. He looked at the red-head whose mouth hung open and face was so slack with pleasure he looked like he could burst in to tears. It was humorous, yet also encouraged the swelling of his own excitement knowing his actions were the cause of such an amorous look. With a large hand to Ichigo’s chest he forced the man to lie back against the bed. Resuming, he took Ichigo back in his mouth. Not so deeply it risked triggering his gag reflex but enough so a good portion was submerged. Grimmjow noted the feel in his mouth. So workable and mobile against his tongue yet unyielding like sucking a length of covered iron as he bobbed slowly but with intent. He was somewhat alarmed when Ichigo’s cock throbbed and pre-cum coated his tongue. Knowing from where the liquid oozed should’ve caused disgust, but it didn’t. He was more alarmed when realizing he didn’t mind the salty taste. Dare say he enjoyed the flavor, his boo’s flavor, and swallowed against the leaking head. The action produced a throaty moan from Ichigo whose toes curled from the sensation.

Ichigo’s hips rocked upward gently as he moaned the man’s name. He wanted to savor this moment but there was no lasting. He aggressively gripped the broad shoulders as every stroke of that hot mouth felt like it could siphon his soul from his body. Grimmjow felt nails digging in his flesh right before being pushed hard, the cock springing free. Ichigo shouted at the same instant a jet of semen hit Grimmjow’s chin, the remainder shooting up and landing on his own stomach. He laid flat against the bed huffing, then weakly pushed up on his elbows and stared at the thug in speechless awe.

Ignoring his own aching manhood, and Ichigo’s adorable stupefied expression, Grimmjow needed a moment to digest what just happened. Wiping cum from his face, he took note of that pivotal moment. In his mind, you can’t take another man’s penis in your mouth and ever be the same afterwards. If there was a point of no return, that was it. Not that there was anything he had a desire to return to.

The idea of missing those pretty brown eyes, so passion filled and adoring, or those same eyes looking at anyone else with matching affection filled him with a vicious, murderous rage. Or was it pain? He wasn’t sure, he only knew it was an intense, sweeping emotion. Intensity he could pinpoint only a handful of times in his life. The first time he experienced loss and understood death when his father passed. Growing up thinking his mother abandoned him, then eventually witnessing that same women bleed from a gunshot wound to the chest. When he returned home to discover Nnoitra had been shot. Each instance had a different but dramatic impact on him emotionally. The only similarity is they involved people he cared deeply for. There’s a four letter word for that feeling, but the part of him that hated to confront sentimental shit resisted its use.

He didn’t want to think about it anymore, and wouldn’t have to. Ichigo tackled him, knocking to the wayside any thoughts that weren’t focused on the meeting of their lips. They kissed urgently and Grimmjow again found himself on top of Ichigo, not caring what was on the man’s stomach was being smeared messily between them. Hands fervently swept up and down his back, shoulders and arms, each electrifying touch filled with a need that sparked his internal engine. Grimmjow’s hand searched the nightstand until finding the bottle of lube he had on standby.

He sat back on his calves, instructing, “Flip over,”

Ichigo rolled on his stomach. His cheeks were spread wide; Grimmjow freed one hand to drizzle the lube. The substance dripped from his crack to run down the length of his halves to his sac. He gasped as a thick digest breached him. It was sudden but tolerable, though he did crane his neck to observe. A second finger joined immediately after which caused some discomfort. Ichigo considered giving instructions until Grimmjow attempted to soothe him by massaging his legs, rear and back. The man was trying. He fingered him slowly until Ichigo began humming in pleasure, upon which he tried the scissoring motion.

Grimmjow removed himself from the confines of his underwear, his erection so engorged it stretched painfully against the cotton fabric. He maneuvered this with one hand, his other still working inside Ichigo, eventually massaging over his sweet spot. The red-head groaned loudly and hiked his ass off the bed. Grimmjow’s cock jumped at the invitation and he positioned his legs on the outside of Ichigo’s thighs, removing his fingers and laying his dick to rest between the groove of the man’s backside. He admired the image of his length sandwiched between the peachy mounds and squeezed them against his cock.

 “Make it bounce.” Grimmjow rasped.

Ichigo stalled but he wasn’t exactly unprepared. When the request was made for him to twerk the first time he privately tested his abilities. He considered his skill adequate, the concern was Grimmjow’s expectations.

“Stop actin’ shy.” continued the thug.

Ichigo decided to be honest. “It’s not that. I don’t want ya to be disappointed is all.”

“Ain’t noboby thinkin’ that deep. Just do a lil somethin’ for ya man.”

Done second-guessing himself, Ichigo lifted his hips off the bed. With an arch in his back and spreading his legs for leverage he gyrated his ass in a back and forth movement against Grimmjow. He found there was something teasingly exciting about the act, his opening in direct contact with that thick shaft that slid between his cheeks. His arousal had reestablished and he increased the speed just for that friction.

Grimmjow stopped him by grabbing his hips. “Fuck, Hol’ up…” Breathing heavy, pre-cum exuded from his tip to drip on Ichigo’s lower back. He had to wait until a shudder passed. He wasn’t ready, or expecting, Ichigo to move like that. “Slow motion for me...”

Ichigo then began a steady rolling of his hips. He made use of his glut muscle, flexing them against Grimmjow’s dick.

“Have mercy…” The thug bit his fist. “‘Nough to make a grown man cry.”

Ichigo turned his face in to his arm, smothering his laughter at the man’s dramatics.

“Think that’s funny?” Grimmjow leaned over his back, licking the helix of his ear.  Ichigo shivered under him. “Yer not slick, playin’ like ya ain’t know how to work that ass.” Shifting his body accordingly, Grimmjow’s anxious cock impaled that tight ass completely, guttural sounds of fulfillment chorused from both.

Ichigo turned his head to have his lips captured, the bottom one nibbled as Grimmjow rhythmically stroked his inner walls. His pleasure vocalized in a higher pitch of loud feminine wails as each thrust rubbed his prostate.

“Grimm… I’m gonna cum again.”

The other man was focused, intermittently planting kisses on his neck and Ichigo noticed him staring intensely. Grimmjow then repositioned himself, moving a knee between Ichigo’s thighs while hiking one of the man’s legs so he lay on an angle. Anchoring himself with one hand gripping Ichigo’s shoulder and the other on the bed, he put his entire weight behind fucking the red-head under him.

Ichigo spouted unintelligible obscenities while trying to keep from smothering in the thick, downy bedding. They bounced with the mattress behind the force of the thugs plowing hips. He was convinced the man would fuck him right through the bed. Wave after wave of ecstasy tore loud shouts from him as he came explosively. Grimmjow was there with him, bring home his orgasm with violent thrusts and primal grunts as he released a hot rush inside Ichigo. He then collapsed across Ichigo’s back, sweaty and panting.  

Minutes later Ichigo felt the loss of the man’s body and the bed dipped. There was shuffling of maybe clothing but he didn’t turn to verify. He didn’t want to move. After an attempt to flip over felt equivalent to rolling concrete slabs, he wasn’t sure if he actually could. So he remained thus, sunken into the bedding for an unmeasured period until the light was flicked on in the room. Grimmjow appeared wearing Ichigo’s discarded towel and carrying pizza boxes.

Ichigo found strength from somewhere and managed to pull his body up to a sitting position against the headboard. He hadn’t realized he was hungry until the aroma wafting from the food made his stomach growl. Although his hunger was significantly tamped down when he saw the condition of Grimmjow’s body.

“You were injured?” Ichigo asked.

Having sat the food on a desk across the room, Grimmjow turned with a chicken wing hanging from his mouth. “It ain’t a big deal.”

The man had a wide purple bruise on his back spanning from one shoulder blade to the other. There was also a bandage on his leg with a visible blood stain. The injuries weren’t severe but there had to be a story behind how he got them. “What happened last night?”

Grimmjow proceeded to eat, pulling and biting meat off the wing until it was a clean bone. “You gon’ come get some of this food or nah?” he asked, nibbling on some cartilage.

Ichigo’s brows gathered though he tried to keep frustration from showing.

“I’m on vacation. Ain’t no talkin’ business, work or other shit while I’m chillin’.” What Grimmjow wouldn’t say is how much he wanted to temporarily push last night to the darkest corner of his mind. Or at least disconnect from it emotionally. Killing Ryūken had been satisfying but he didn’t want to get wrapped up in those few moments of joy. They were hard-won, a reminder of everything that brought him to that point. 

Ichigo showed understanding and went back to the change in subject. “I’ll be over there in a bit. I think if I stand right now my legs will give.”

Scooping the pizza box in hand, Grimmjow presented it bedside so Ichigo could grab a slice without moving.

“Thank you,” Ichigo said, smiling with the upmost appreciation.

Grimmjow felt his heart lurch, like trying to physically leap from his chest and attach itself to the owner of that smile. If there was anything that helped him forgot, it was right in front of him. Even if Ichigo was a nag who pushed the boundaries of his patience. Somehow, that was becoming part of his charm.

Grimmjow frowned and tossed the pizza box on the nightstand. Cutting the lights, he forced Ichigo to confusedly eat in the dark. When had he become so tolerant? So _whipped_? He wondered what Nnoitra might say about his change. If he would laugh in his face, or tell him to man up and confront his feelings head on. He imagined the man doing both. Returning to the bed, he dropped the towel and laid on his back. He heard Ichigo ask something along the lines of everything being okay. Too caught up in his thoughts he wasn’t sure if he answered.

Ichigo ate quietly, the entire room inundated with silence. He wondered had his thanks triggered the man until Grimmjow spoke like they’d been carrying an ongoing conversation.

“Shit makes no sense.”

Ichigo waited to see if Grimmjow would elaborate before disrupting him. He didn’t. “What makes no sense?”

“Plottin’ to kill someone ya love. Still love after all these years. And tell me, her son. What am I ‘posed to do with that information?”

“You mean…” Ichigo pieced together what had been reveled to him over the past few days. “Ryuken was still in love with your mom?”

“On his last breath he’d say some shit like that. No apologies, no dyin’ words for ya kid, talkin’ ‘bout ya still love her. That love shit, that’s why I don’t fuck wid it. It’s confusin’ as fuck.” Ryūken’s confession had truly mystified Grimmjow and even haunted him a little. For a man to use his dying breath to declare he was still in love with a woman he had killed. Obsessive, crazy and irrational. Is that what it means to be in love? Ryūken wasn’t the only example he had of people behaving foolishly in the name of that four letter word and he had little in terms of positive examples associated with it. How could he correlate what he felt for Ichigo with that?

Ichigo scooted to lie beside Grimmjow, hugging the man’s arm. It was disheartening listening to him express his feelings on love. Although there was some relief when he admitted he didn’t comprehend it.

“Yeah, love can be complicated, confusing and at times trying but it’s not always like that. It’s also beautiful, selfless and rewarding, especially when you find the person your heart beats for. When you’re with that person it’s like you’re covered in a warm, comforting blanket and you forget everything except how happy they make you feel.” Ichigo felt Grimmjow tense then relax and wondered if that sentiment resonated with him too. This was beyond trying to help the man understand there’s more to love than the examples he’s witnessed. Ichigo spoke directly from his heart, and it was time to be more direct. He was quiet, listening to Grimmjow’s heartbeat and breathing. It lulled him.

After some time, he said, “It occurred to me you and Uryū could’ve ended up step brothers.”

Grimmjow looked at him like the words he spoke were a malediction.

Ichigo laughed, rubbing at the man’s chest. “I know, I can’t imagine it either. But you think if that happened me and you would’ve still ended up together?”

 Grimmjow mindlessly ran his hand up and down Ichigo’s spine as he considered it. “My hood shaped who I am. Had I grown up ‘round ya’ll saditty ass muthafuckas I’d be a different man.”

Ichigo propped his chin on the man’s sternum to see him better. “So is that a no or yes?”

“I’m sayin’, livin’ different experiences would make a different person. How the hell can I say what decisions I’d make?” Grimmjow peered down to see Ichigo staring at him with those deep lakes of endless beauty. “…On some real shit, long as ya stayed the same we prolly woulda made somethin’ happen eventually.”

“I think so too, we just would’ve met sooner. I think you would’ve been my first crush, my first kiss and-“

 “And what? You was gon’ let me be the first to get them cheeks?” Grimmjow grabbed the man’s ass for emphasis.

 Ichigo playfully rolled his eyes. “That too, but I was actually gonna to say my first love.”

Grimmjow stopped functioning completely. He wasn’t even breathing. Ichigo might’ve been alarmed were it not for the beating of the man’s heart, which had become a frenzied thumping against the hand resting on his chest. While the declaration was new, he wouldn’t give Grimmjow a moment of respite because the disclosure itself shouldn’t come as a shock.

“I know we’ve been though a lot,” Ichigo continued, “but times like this when we can just be with each other in peace make me so happy. Everything it took getting to this point was worth it because I love you.”

Their bodies rolled and Ichigo suddenly had his lips ravaged. He was kissed long, slow and hard. Every time he tried to speak Grimmjow captured his mouth again. This continued until he gave up on talking altogether. When Grimmjow stared down at him a chill coursed though his entire body. He could read the raw emotion there. So many unspoken words relayed to him through a meeting of their eyes.

Grimmjow lifted the red-head’s legs. As soon as the limbs were secured around his waist his cock sought the hot passage, lube and semen from their previous relations aided the task. Ichigo whined sensually at again being stretched and filled. One strong hand then slid behind his back and the other palmed the back of his head. He was held so close and so tight against the other’s body it was like they would meld as one. Grimmjow’s tongue explored his mouth, swirling wetly against his own in a way that had him breathless. Fingertips lightly grazed across his scalp as the hand there was used to control their kiss. The thug tugged gently on those orange strands, giving them the chance to breathe while leaving soft pecks around his lips, nose and the soft dotting of freckles across his cheeks.

Ichigo was shaking in the embrace with each smoldering kiss. This degree of intimacy was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Especially in combination with those unremitting thrusts that sank core caressingly deep and jerked his entire body with their power. Never before had he seen this side of Grimmjow and wasn’t aware the man capable of such passion. And yet, it was more than that. They weren’t just having passionate sex, they were making love. Until that moment he wasn’t aware there was much of a difference but a monumental difference there was. Grimmjow hadn’t said the words but Ichigo could feel them. With every nerve ending ablaze from the man’s affections he could feel the love in every fiber of his being.

Grimmjow’s face was nestled securely in his neck when Ichigo felt the build in his lower belly. His inner muscles flexed and those blue eyes sought his browns. They separated just enough for Grimmjow to reach between their abdomens and firmly stroke Ichigo’s manhood.

“Kiss me when yer cummin’.” Grimmjow whispered, seductively maintaining the other’s passion glazed gaze as their climaxes approached.

Ichigo’s eyes became misty and he squeezed them shut as he frantically locked lips with his lover. He felt the eruption of hot essence coat his insides right before the orgasmic gratification had him sobbing. Exhausted, he fell limp against the mattress and opened his eyes, his lashes long and pronounced from the clear liquid coating them. The intensity of their lovemaking had brought tears to his eyes.

Grimmjow rolled, shifting Ichigo to one side and maneuvered so his softening penis would slide out. When Ichigo’s head rested against his chest and breathing became relaxed and steady, he observed the sleeping other. Looking at that serene face, it made him wish he were able to return the words that were said to him. Sure love could be all those nice things Ichigo described, but that ugly side still existed and you often had to take the chance it could lead to heartache in the end. Regardless of what he felt, not professing those words were his way of safeguarding Ichigo’s heart.

Or that’s what he continued to tell himself as sleep eluded him.

X_o_X_o_X

When Ichigo opened his eyes it was morning. His duffle bag of clothes lay where Grimmjow once was. Looking around the room there was no sign of the man, his presence missed. Last night, just the thought of it had his heart fluttering and skin tingling. Then an unwanted memory flashed in his mind and he had a vivid recall of Loly, her crazed expression and gun, a person that turned homicidal after their sexual encounters with Grimmjow.

Ichigo’s entire world had been altered since Grimmjow and he crossed paths. Should they ever split that too would bring about change. Loly had been driven to kill. While Ichigo was nothing like her, he couldn’t help but wonder what depths of madness he might be driven to. This train of thought, he found it rather disturbing and pushed it away to focus on the present.

His legs nearly buckled as he stood, but he was able to make it to the restroom without incident. He went about his morning hygiene routine, dressed and went downstairs. The patio doors were open and he could see Grimmjow past the property, looking over a half wall leading to the beach. When he was near, the blue haired man jerked his chin at the scene he was watching. Two preteen boys were running and playing along the beach. One, who was notably taller, pushed the other face down in the sand then sped out of retaliation range.

“My moms, last time she stood me up the boss brought us here to stay cus I was in a shitty mood. Took us to the amusement park up the street and I ate cotton candy ‘til I puked pink. Those brats remind me of me and Nnoi.”

Ichigo joined him in leaning on the wall. “You miss him?”

Grimmjow’s eyes were downcast. He then looked at Ichigo like the question was bizarre.

 _“Of course he misses him.”_ Ichigo thought, feeling stupid. “Sorry to bring it up, but you know you have my ear if you ever wanna talk about it.” Raising his arms high above his head, he stretched with a satisfying groan and changed the subject. “How long are we stayin’? It’s a beautiful day. We should take a walk on the beach later.”

“Can’t,”

“Oh. Alright. Are we leavin’ soon, then?”

Grimmjow was focused ahead, the boys had left so his attention was on nothing in particular. “I gotta bounce.”

“I see, well I enjoyed the night we stayed. We could always come back to the beach later.”

Grimmjow scrubbed his face with his hands then gripped the edge of the brick wall until his knuckles were white. “Look, don’t start makin’ faces and doin’ shit wid yer eyes.”

The warning left Ichigo bewildered. “I don’t know what ya mean.”

“When I say I gotta bounce I mean I’m leavin’.”

“I know what bounce means. Goin’ somewhere work related?”

Grimmjow shrugged. “Who knows.”

“Uh, OK. You’re leavin’ but don’t know where to? What’s goin’ on?” Ichigo faced the man who hadn’t once looked at him. That’s when he noticed the figure out the corner of his eyes standing in the path beside the house. “What the hell is Uryū doing here?”

x_O_x

He had been watching the water, thinking of everything and nothing. In his mind, numerous memories and events played in a circle but he couldn’t focus extensively on a single one.

“They probably have a lot to discuss.”

Uryū turned to the voice. Kūkaku had returned after leaving to retrieve something. “I imagine so.” He replied. It wasn’t an attempt to spy on their conversation, he happened upon them when going to get a closer look at the ocean.

“How are you holding up?” Kūkaku asked.

Uryū was appreciative of her concern. He’d come to find Kūkaku seemed a strict but pleasant person. After confirmation Ryūken was killed, she pulled the plug on the operation promptly and arranged to meet soon after. Shūkurō advised against it but Uryū thought the man to be overly cynical. He imagined had they wanted to harm him it would’ve been enacted already. Kūkaku and he spent the day discussing what happened, she also educated him on her history and business relationship with Ryūken. Their talks kept him busy while Yoruichi helped arrange cleanup with Shūkurō to remove the bodies from the property. If things went differently and he hadn’t lost Nnoitra, he imagined he’d have a great relationship with the in-laws.

 “I’m well, taking everything one step at a time” said Uryū. “I have to thank you. Your help has been invaluable.”

“Don’t mention it. I wish I could help further but-”

“Please. You’ve done more than enough. The circumstances are just unfortunate. I believe you and I could’ve had a pleasant relationship.”

The woman gave a subtle smile in return. “I went to go grab this from the car. It was always intended for you so by rights you should keep it.”

Uryū’s insides twisted when she presented the petite, black box, as he knew exactly what it contained. He became choked up with emotion that took long seconds to control before he could slowly accept the offering. “Thank you,” he said, after he was sure his voice wouldn’t break.

Kūkaku gave a small nod. “Take care of yourself, Uryū.”

X_o_X

Anxiety crawled chillingly across Ichigo’s skin. “W-What’d ya just say?”

Grimmjow didn’t hesitate. “I said we’re through.”

“But why? Nothing you’ve said makes any sense. First ya say you’re leavin’, now you’re sayin’ ya wanna break up? I don’t understand.”

“Told ya from jump I ain’t used to relationships. Our time is up. Shit happens.”

“Don’t ‘shit happens’ me. I want more of an explanation than that.”

Grimmjow sniffed, showing an air of nonchalance. “It is what it is.”

Ichigo gripped one of the man’s shoulders and positioned him in a way that forced them to face one another. “Look at me and talk to me, please.”

Grimmjow refused to do either of those things, keeping his head turned towards the ocean and saying nothing more.

“Will you fucking talk to me!” Ichigo fisted the man’s shirt, shaking him. The thug looked down at the hands. “Get pissed, fight me, I don’t care. I need you to talk to me. Ya can’t just- We’ve been through so much. Then, last night when we made love… Ya can’t love me like ya did last night then say we’re over. What the fuck, Grimmjow?”

Grabbing both wrists, the hands were pried from his shirt. “Don’t get it twisted. Never said I loved ya.”

Ichigo gasped when it felt like a sharp pain unexpectedly needled through him. He took a step back, hands balled in fists to control their trembling. So cold was the way the thug pointed that fact out. No, Grimmjow hadn’t said it. Whether spoken or unspoken Ichigo refused to believe the love and connection they shared was in his imagination.

“Aight, yer holdin’ me up.” Grimmjow held his fist out for daps. “Orange, it’s been cool.”

For a full minute Ichigo started in disbelief until Grimmjow dropped his hand. He took a deep, shaky breath, straightened his posture and turned to face the beach.

Grimmjow watched the red-head’s back for an extended period, then asked, “Ya mad?” Though he found himself on the receiving end of silent treatment. “Orange,” Still, he was ignored. “Ichigo?” When the man refused to acknowledge him, he yanked his arm.

Ichigo swiftly turned, slapping the hand away.

The painful contraction in his chest had Grimmjow believe he would drop dead where he stood. Sheer, heart-wrenching agony swept him when he saw the tears streaming down Ichigo’s face. He wrapped his arms around him, was fought off with Ichigo thrashing wildly. There was no attempt to block or dodge when the fist aimed at his face connected with his jaw. His head snapped painfully to one side and he stumbled a step back, but having braced himself that was the extent of it. The place of impact would swell and bruise, but he deserved it. Realizing the punch landed, Ichigo calmed enough for Grimmjow to suppress him in a constricting bear hug.

Grimmjow’s breathing was labored, like he just finished subduing a rabid animal. “Shit, I just, I thought…. Fuck. Don’t cry, boo.” This was not what he intended and his act faded.

So emotionally fatigued, Ichigo had little energy to continue struggling. “Seriously, fuck you. Why are you doin’ this to me?”

“Listen, I’m not bullshittin’ when I say I gotta leave. No choice after killin’ Ryūken. Most of us involved are skippin’ town. Right now we ain’t got the resources to avoid the pen when what happened falls back on us, or if there’s targets on our backs cus his associates want revenge. Since I gotta bounce, I thought makin’ ya hate me would be easier on ya. Ain’t think yer ass would start bawlin’.”

Ichigo pushed against the hard frame. He had to inform the man he struggled to breathe before the hold around him relaxed enough to allow slipping free. “How’d ya honestly expect me to react? Bump your fist, say thanks for the memories and unaffectedly walk away? I. Fucking. Love. You. That might not mean shit to you but...” Ichigo stopped to blink back tears. He couldn’t recall ever being so emotional, especially not openly.

“Nah, fix yer face.” Frowning, Grimmjow used his thumbs to swipe the tears from Ichigo’s cheeks then kissed him soundly on the lips. “Chill wid this waterworks shit. I can’t see ya like this.”

Ichigo needed focus to compose himself and briefly closed his eyes to accomplish this. Had he felt the hands wiping his tears shaking? He opened his eyes and finally Grimmjow was making eye contact. Pain, uncertainty, regret, Ichigo could see it all on his face. Already he found himself forgiving the man. What Grimmjow just did to him emotionally was unquestionably fucked up, but he realized it was, in some twisted way, for his benefit. Once recognizing the mistake Grimmjow was apologetic in tone, behavior and expression. Ichigo was becoming an expert at reading emotions because the thug struggled with expressing them. Such progress they’ve made as a pair only to be told this was the end?

“Tell me, how long will ya be gone?” Ichigo asked.

“Depends mostly on Gin and how long it takes to build his rep. We can’t get a pass ‘til he takes that number one spot and his influence means shit. That’s gon’ take a minute… months, maybe years, can’t say.”

Ichigo hesitated over the next question. “I know ya didn’t actually say the words but do you care about me? Be honest.”

“I ain’t say the words cus I knew it would be worse when I had to leave.” Grimmjow flipped a hand to Ichigo’s red, puffy eyes. He also knew admitting how much Ichigo means to him, only to lose him soon after, would provoke an emotional turmoil he couldn’t imagine being equipped to handle. Yet, he had unintentionally made the man cry. Protecting his own emotions was now an afterthought. “I thought ‘bout riskin’ it all, stayin’ so we could be together but if muthafuckas came for me it’ll make my boo a target. Ain’t no way in hell I’d chance that.” He slapped his right hand over his heart. “Cus yer right here. On my life, I never felt for anyone what I feel for you and that’s keepin’ it one hunnid.”

Ichigo exhaled a long-held breath and used a finger to gather a tear before it fell. “Then, I’ll wait.”

Grimmjow went to massage his temples with his thumb and middle finger then raked the hand through his hair. He was convinced Ichigo didn’t comprehend his own words. “I said it could be years. Don’t say shit ya don’t mean.”

“I assume coming with you isn’t an option?” The furrow between Grimmjow’s brows gave him his answer. “Promise to come back and I promise I’ll wait. I don’t fall in love with just anyone and I believe it’s worth waitin’ for you… for us.”

Grimmjow cupped Ichigo’s face and searched it. What he saw was sincerity and determination flashing boldly in those glimmering eyes. His heart swelled for the annoying, stubborn, caring, endearing, orange haired fool.

Grimmjow leaned down, his forehead meeting the others, and closed his eyes. “If I come back and yer gone or wid another muthafucka-“

“Wouldn’t happen. Ever. Ya know me better than that. I risked death for you, there is no other man I want besides you. That goes both ways. If I wait and ya come back sayin’ your with someone else-”

“I wouldn’t do ya dirty like that.”

Ichigo soothingly rubbed Grimmjow’s jaw where he’d hit him. “… Sorry about earlier.”

“Was on me, I’m lettin’ it slide this once.”

They remained pressed together in quietude, as if telepathically exchanging their words of devotion. Grimmjow’s phone vibrated and he reluctantly broke their contact. “I gotta go.”

Ichigo nodded, resisting the urge to blink in an attempt to avoid spilling the wetness filling his eyes. “Grimm, I-“

“Save it.” He said, grabbing the man’s hand.

Ichigo felt something hard slide along his finger and he peered down. The silence inducing astonishment only lasted a few moments. “But… wasn’t this your fathers?”

Feeling his throat tighten, the thug presented his back, unable to view another tear filled display without compromising his masculinity. “Hol’ it for me.”

Was all he said and Ichigo watched Grimmjow, hands stuffed in his pockets, amble along the pathway until disappearing from view. Eyes glued to his back, it was reminiscent of the day they first met and he watched him saunter off in the rain. He remembers the adrenaline rush after encountering the gun-wielding, darkly clothed figure. His heart rate had to jump significantly, he was sure. Pounding as he ran, pounding as he hit the wet sidewalk, pounding once seeing those life-changing blue eyes for the first time. Back then, never would he have predicted his heart would later pound for that same dangerous and mysterious man in an all-encompassing feeling of love.

-xOx-

Grimmjow closed the door to the SUV and looked out the heavily tinted window. With everyone present, Yoruichi started the engine but didn’t immediately drive off.

Kūkaku turned in the front passenger’s seat. “I’m sorry, I know you had business to take care of, but we have to get on the road. I wanted to leave at dawn but I couldn’t reach you when I called.”

Yoruichi looked in the rearview mirror, heart breaking for the man whose gaze was fixed towards the beach house. “If there’s anything you need to do or say, speak now before we pull away.”

Sorting emotions, Grimmjow couldn’t bring himself to look away from the window. “Stop bein’ a punk and go talk to ‘im.”

“Nah,” Nnoitra angled himself on the reclined, pillow-lined back seat, his heart racing each time he got of glimpse of Uryū’s face. “He was told I’m dead, let ‘im continue to think that.”

Yoruichi winced at the man’s cold tone. “You’re aware you can’t contact him once we’re gone. I just don’t want you to regret not taking this opportunity. You know I did what the situation called for in order to protect you-“ She felt a hand on her knee, Kūkaku shook her head. Her partner explained numerous times how her choice was correct, to keep Nnoitra’s status and whereabouts hidden. That didn’t erase the feeling of guilt.

Nnoitra looked at his hands, his fingers twitched with the urge to touch, feel and embrace Uryū. Clenching them tightly in to fists, he’d made his decision. “So I should tell ‘im I’m alive just to turn ‘round and leave, not knowin’ when I can come back? I ain’t puttin’ my baby through that. That’s fucked up.”

The occupants in the vehicle were silent, no one able to form a refutable argument. Instead, Kūkaku asked, “How do you feel? In any pain?”

“I’m high as a muthafucka, I don’t feel shit.” Nnoitra dared to spare a last glace at Uryū. It only served to remind him not all pain was physical. “Let’s go,”

Having fully accepted his feelings for Ichigo, Grimmjow understood the man's torment. Glasses, he didn’t give a shit about. Uryū looked too much like his dad. Where there not already an unsavory history between them, that reason alone was enough to decide he’d never trust him. Still, his heart went out to Nnoitra. What was left of the organ anyway.

Grimmjow studied his hand at the spot that once held his most important possession. Unable to recall the last time he removed his father’s ring, its absence left an ivory band as the remainder of his hand had tanned around it. It felt unnatural to be without it, like he was missing an aspect of himself. Just like he felt incomplete without Ichigo. He hadn’t just left the ring, he left a huge chunk of his heart. Until he could become whole again, he would focus on bettering himself. That way, once he returned to Ichigo he could ensure there was no danger of his lifestyle forcing them to separate ever again.

-oXo-

Ichigo had been examining the keepsake Grimmjow placed specifically on his left ring finger when he felt someone brush against his arm.

Uryū joined him at the half wall. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Ichigo hadn’t expected that. “No, I’m the one that should be apologizin’.”

“I know, but since you’re so damn obstinate I figured it was best to just get it out the way.”

“Wow, so heartfelt… I am sorry, though. You’re my best friend and we shouldn’t let anything come between us.” They both shared a small smile that helped shed some of their silent suffering. “I wanted to come see you but was told no one was allowed on the property. I heard about your dad. My condolences.”

Uryū waved his hand. “Thanks but I’m not broken up about that.” He redirected the conversation. “That ring looks familiar.”

Ichigo looked at the sapphire ring adoringly. “I’m just holdin’ on to it for Gr- Uh...” He looked at Uryū questioningly, unsure whether or not it was yet appropriate to mention the name. Grimmjow had been a source of contention between them.

“No worries. Now that I’m no longer ignorant to everything there’s little enmity towards him.” Uryū lifted his glasses as he bent down to get a better look at the ring. “You’re _holding_ it on a very specific finger.”

Ichigo didn’t miss the large, sparkling diamond on Uryū’s hand but hadn’t been sure how to bring up the topic. “I see I’m not the only one with a ring.”

Uryū now looked at his own ring with a doleful smile. He couldn’t yet bring himself to talk in detail about the proposal. “We’ll have much to discuss later. Now that I see you’re alright I have to run some errands and get back to the estate. There’s a lot to take care of.”

“I’ll find my keys and follow you there.”

“Actually, that’s not a good idea. Repairs will be starting soon and in general there so much going on.”

“Then let me help. You don’t have to bear these burdens alone.”

“I’m not.” Uryū pointed over his shoulder. Shūkurō was stationed behind them in the enclosed patio. “He’s far more versed in these matters than I.”

 “Wait a minute.” Ichigo looked at Uryū’s ring then back at Shūkurō. “Please don’t tell me…”

“Of course not! As dense as ever I see. You should know such a thing with him never crossed my mind. I’m still in mourning, things of that nature don’t cross my mind in general.”

Although Shūkurō wasn’t in hearing distance, Ichigo nonetheless dropped his voice to a whisper. “Are you sure you can trust him?”

Uryū mulled over the question. Were he to answer truthfully the response would be no. However, he had decided his opinion could be changed over time. Shūkurō had proven himself a valuable asset during and prior to the attack on Ryūken. As long as no problems arose and the man respected boundaries, he would make use of him as hired help. “People are motivated by money. He works for me now so I don’t see the problem. In any case, I’m focused on staying busy. There are too many memories I don’t want occupying my mind.”

Ichigo looped his arm through Uryū’s. “Then we’ll just have to find ways to keep you busy.”

He smiled, grateful to have his best friend back. “I’ll be plenty busy overseeing my father’s affairs. It’s expected that I take his place, and I’m not yet sure what that entails. It almost feels surreal, how much has changed. Although, I realize there are some things that will always remain the same.”

“And what’s that, Uryū?”

“Black and red stripped pants with an orange and lime green floral top? Utterly atrocious. Did you miss every mirror on your way out or did they shatter in protest of the offense coordinate?”

Ichigo jokingly dropped his head in shame. “In my defense, all my other clothes had been worn. And here I thought we were having a meaningful conversation.”

“We are,” A comfortable silence passed between them as they watched the water in reflection. Then, Uryū said, “While I prepare to embark on this new journey I’m still trying to determine how to move forward from this closing chapter in our lives.”

Pondering his words, Ichigo again looked to the sapphire ring and found contentment. This chapter in their lives may be coming to a close, but as he anticipated Grimmjow’s return he knew his story was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s A LOT I want to say but I’ll keep it short. Mostly thank you, very, very much for reading. I wanted to keep the ending simple and left up to the reader’s to determine the characters futures. I respect honest opinions and know not everyone will be fond of the ending. 
> 
> Besides that, I guess the most relevant thing I wanted to point out for those unaware is some events and dialogue in chapters 8, 20, 21 & 22 were a setup for a long-since canceled Renji/Byakuya spin-off. There was a method to my madness. So while I dropped it, I didn’t think it necessary to rearrange the ideas I had for those chapters and left the option there.
> 
> Anyway, thanks again guys. Especially the one’s that have been dealing with my BS for years. The ones from the 2012/13 era… You the real MVP! The ones that encouraged me to finish this, even though I dropped it like 3 times <3 My first multi-chapter fic is complete!!!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re fine with the ending as is, feel free to skip over this addition.
> 
> For KougaLOVELESS who was interested in reading the epilogue. As I was originally telling her, I had no intentions of updating this fic but this was written a week after I uploaded the last chapter. Since I changed my mind about posting it, I did a significant amount of editing/lengthening. As a result it's now longer than the last chapter, so not really an epilogue anymore.

The overwhelming stench of blood, waste and other bodily fluids had Uryū gagging into the lapels of his jacket. He cringed when his footsteps splashed in something wet, but he wasn’t brave enough to glance down and identify the liquid. As expected upon reaching the foyer, maneuvering through the carnage proved difficult. The fragmented railing was the closest thing he could grab to support his balance. If it would keep him from slipping in whatever was under his feet, he’d happily suffer a few splinters. The goopy substance under his hand wasn’t much better, but he ignored it long enough to round the first spiral staircase. The startling and unimaginable scene he then saw almost had his knees buckling under him.

Ryūken steadied himself, leaning on what was soon realized as another human’s leg. Slowly he pushed up from a stacked pile of corpses and looked down at his bloody and tattered suit. 

Uryū produced a high-pitch squeal of horror. In shock he covered his mouth, forgetting his hand’s soiled state. The smell up close immediately triggered nausea and he doubled over, regurgitating by the steps. When he straightened, he used the sleeve of his jacket to dab his eyes and gaped once more at the person before him.

Unconcerned with Uryū’s reaction, Ryūken was busy removing his jacket. He searched the garment until locating a gun and then tossed the clothing to the floor.

“Father?” Uryū’s voice quavered as he thoroughly looked the man over. The open holes through Ryūken’s body, which were still leaking blood, caused him to recoil.  “But, h-how-”

“My son, I’m delighted you’re here.” Ryūken was nonchalantly stepping on bodies to cross the room. “I was wondering if you were interested in joining me?” the look on his face went from detached to deranged when he raised the gun, pointing it at his child.

The threat on his life prompted Uryū to flee. As if time slowed near a stop, every heart-pounding second dragged painfully when he tried to run. The attempt didn’t carry him far, an unnoticed cadaver at his feet caused him to trip and fall. He rolled, only to find the gun he were attempting to escape an inch from his face and aimed square between his eyes.

-

Uryū shot upright, gripping the bedclothes at his chest as he panted harshly. His breathlessness turned to coughing and he sprung from his bed, sprinting to the attached bathroom where he dry-heaved over the toilet. He spent several minutes retching until his gut calmed and he collapsed on his knees. His accelerated heart rate had begun to abate, but the stress of the ordeal still had beads of sweat sliding down his face. Squinting to see into his room, he saw the digital clock which displayed the predawn hour. He also saw the condition of his messy bed with pillows strewn about and the sheet partially removed. Despite being sleeping hours it didn’t look inviting. Now free of the disturbing nightmare, the last thing he wanted was to revisit it.

T_v_T

Kenpachi leaned forward in his chair, eyes wide and unblinking. “They say I’m crazy because I’ve killed a lot of people. That doesn’t make me crazy, it makes me experienced.”

Uryū listened to the pitch for employment, an uncomfortable chill coursing through him while being subjected to the crazed stare. “I see… well your résumé is impressive, but I’m actually looking for someone who’s more familiar with non-lethal methods to subdue.”

“Yeah, that too. I forgot to send it with my résumé, but I faxed my other credentials yesterday.”

Searching his desk, Uryū flipped through a small stack of papers and fingered through a manila folder. Unable to locate these credentials, he picked up his desk phone and paged his secretary.

It was long seconds of melodic beeps until someone finally answered. “Yes?”

“Did we receive any faxes yesterday?” asked Uryū.

A rustling of papers punctuated the short silence. “Yup, two. Looks like they’re from a résumé.”

“Why don’t I have them on my desk?”

“Oh, you want them? Here I come.”

Uryū took a deep breath. Quietly he let irritation ease to a manageable level before returning to the interview. “Forgive me, Mr. Zaraki, as you can see I’m unorganized.”

“I’ve only been back in town a couple days so I’m still trying to get my shit together. Excuse my French...” Kenpachi found himself distracted as the secretary entered the office and bent over the desk. He tilted his head, indiscreet in his attempt to get a good look at the ass displayed beside him.

Uryū accepted the request with a nod. “Print a copy of the partnership obligations for my next appointment, please. Thanks, Yumichika.”

“Sure thing,” Yumichika then turned to smile at Chad, who was stationed in the corner of the office, before leaving.

Uryū glanced over the additional paperwork. “Everything appears to be here. I’ll look over your file again and call within a week with my decision. Thank you for your time, Mr. Zaraki.” He stood, extending his hand to the man.

Kenpachi stood also, shaking the offered hand to conclude the interview.

Once Kenpachi was gone, Uryū flopped down in his chair. Removing his glasses, he massaged tired eyes. Six months and still he hadn’t fully adjusted to this new life. He had taken over most of his father’s business endeavors. Shūkurō saw to the criminal ones, still trying to either buy their way out or flip it into something legal. Wrongfully assuming it would be a part-time job, Uryū ultimately had to put his life on hold while the Ishida affairs consumed the majority of his time. If it wasn’t the business aspects it was the social. Those loyal to his father attempted to establish the same relationship they had with the older Ishida, though he quickly found himself rubbing elbows with individuals just as corrupt as Ryūken.

His father’s disappearance had been publicized as a missing persons case, his last known whereabouts reportedly the river near the Ishida estate. It was assumed he died accidentally at the water or committed suicide, even though a body was never found. Not that one was searched for. The crooked law officials half-assed the investigation for fear digging into the man’s absence might publicly expose their collaborated misdeeds. This worked out well for Gin and everyone else involved. Still, rumors spread fast and those that had been close to Ryūken already believed he’d been murdered. It was no happenstance the three most prevalent criminal figures, Baraggan, Ryūken and Kūkaku all went missing in such a close time frame. Uryū, with feigned appreciation, accepted the sympathy from his father’s acquaintances, even when they privately vowed revenge on those responsible for Ryūken’s fate. Thankfully, as the months passed so did the interest in vengeance it appeared. As he tried his best to maintain all avenues of income, everyone seemed content as long as they continued making money. 

Yumichika appeared in the office doorway, filing his nails. “Your twelve-thirty is here.”

Uryū put on his glasses and sat studiously in his chair. “Alright, send them in.”

The red haired man that entered his office scanned the room, his eyes settling on the security in the corner. “Chad! What’s good, my guy?” The two slapped hands, exchanging greetings that lasted an extended period.

The other individual who entered behind him stood austerely in the doorway, becoming increasingly miffed by the unprofessional presentation. “Renji,” his voice was stern, a command without having to issue an order.

Renji broke away from Chad to take a post on the other side of the room. He gave the back of his employer a defiant once over before showcasing an amused demeanor.

Uryū stood when his associate approached his desk, shaking his hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Kuchiki.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Ishida. I apologize for the behavior of my security. Exceptional help is so hard to find.”

“Believe me, I absolutely understand.”

They sat and began conducting business.

I-I

Once his appointment ended, Uryū checked the multi-screened monitor. He watched Byakuya Kuchiki and his personal security leave the property, driving through the replaced steel gates. He then switched the feed to view his old home, the place currently vacant. Despite the attempt at convincing his former housemate, Ichigo wouldn’t accompany him on the move to the Ishida estate. His friend decided it was best to remain at the address Grimmjow was most familiar with. When thinking about it, Uryū realized he hadn’t spoken to Ichigo in nearly two months and it had been twice as long since physically spending time with him. It was a matter of conflicting schedules, but he also couldn’t help wondering if they were simply growing apart as individuals. He pushed the thought away and would make it a point to meet up with Ichigo soon.

Initially Uryū decided to have all the cameras removed, but considering Ichigo was hardly home, and he didn’t view footage when the man was, it wasn’t a matter of invading anyone’s privacy. He had been relieved to find there were no cameras in the upstairs portion of the home, although there was indeed audio. He would occasionally spend time watching the empty kitchen or living room, thinking of Nnoitra. He’d smile or chuckle remembering their time together, certainly progress from the days he would clear his office to cry.

“You look so much like your father, it’s frightening.”

Uryū turned to glare at the newly arrived Shūkurō. “What the hell is that supposed to that mean?”

Shūkurō noticed the way the man sat with his hands folded in his lap as he watched the screens. It was reminiscent of Ryūken, who would obsessively watch security feed and scheme. “Nothing. Anyway, I need to talk to you.” He warily shifted eyes towards the guard in the corner behind him.

Uryū took the hint. “You may go on break, Chad.”

Chad nodded and made his exit from the office.

Shūkurō followed up with checking the hall outside, ensuring they were alone.

Uryū watched the cautious behavior with concern. “You are entirely too paranoid, you know that?”

Shūkurō picked up the résumé sitting on a stack of papers. “I wish you would be equally as paranoid. Kenpachi Zaraki? You can’t seriously consider bringing him on as part of security.”

“And why not? He seems capable. Gin recommended him.”

“That’s the problem. Kenpachi was a team leader in the assault six months ago.  When I watched the recorded feed from that night he alone was responsible for more than half the deaths during that incident. Do you still think it’s a coincidence Gin recommends his close associates for hire? That shiesty bastard is spying on you.”

“I’m well aware Kenpachi participated in the assault. The actions taken that night weren’t against me personally. Gin sent Chad and Yumichika because he trusts them and it’s hard to find trustworthy employees. He and I have become quite good friends, so your accusations are unfounded and inappropriate.”

“I wish I were wrong, but I know that’s not the case. I know you’re nothing like Ryūken, but no one else believes that. Gin especially. If you ever fuck up-” The sad confusion in the blue eyes made Shūkurō stop to rethink his wording. It wasn’t his intention to upset Uryū, but the man was too trusting of those who didn’t deserve it. He needed Uryū to understand that Gin wouldn’t hesitate to have him killed if he was ever deemed a threat. As blunt as he wanted to be, his ever growing love for his employer wouldn’t allow him to deepen the hurt he could see budding in that confounded expression. “All I can say is I’m going to continue to keep a watch on Chad and Yumi, and you need to reconsider hiring Kenpachi. That’s a really bad move.”

“Yumi?” Uryū brought a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. “Interesting. You claim not to trust the man yet you’ve gotten comfortable enough to call him by a nickname.”

Shūkurō smirked. “Do I detect a little jealousy?”

Uryū snatched the résumé still in the other’s hand. “Don’t try and change the subject. And don’t you stand there telling me what I need to do. Don’t forget I’ve hired more staff to take some of the burden off of you. You’ve been general and personal security, secretary, errand runner, cook, organizer- which reminds me. Have you seen the letter I received detailing that request for community center donations? I need to send something soon otherwise it will reflect poorly on the Ishida name.”

Shūkurō came around to the side of the L-shaped office desk, kneeling by the attached file cabinet.  “You know I didn’t mind doing those things for you.” Opening the bottom drawer, he searched for the request. “I don’t know why you won’t let me file this stuff electronically. All these damn papers, your father’s method of doing things was outdated. I guess you’re like him in that regard also.”

“Damnit! Will you stop comparing me to him? Just stop mentioning him in general. Please…” Uryū slipped a hand under his glasses, covering his eyes and causing his spectacles to fall to the floor. He then dropped his hand, looking blankly at the wall.

Shūkurō picked up the glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. Turning Uryū’s chair, he returned the eyewear to his face. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”

Uryū hesitated, eyes shifting to Shūkurō then back to the wall. “It was the one in the foyer again, corpses everywhere just like that night. My father stood up from the pile, covered in blood. This time he chased me, wanted to kill me.  He’s still haunting me.”

“Why didn’t you come get me?”

“We can’t continue to share a bed. By morning I feel so… guilty.”

“Why? It’s not like we do anything for you to feel guilty about.” Shūkurō looked at the screen of monitors, noticing it displayed Uryū’s former residence. “For your own sake, at some point you have to take the steps towards moving forward.” When Uryū frowned at him he pointed to the monitor, “That,” and then pointed at Uryū’s ring. “and that, it’s not healthy emotionally or mentally to hold on to those things so closely. Not if you want to begin healing.”

“It’s not up to me. My heart decides and right now it’s not yet ready to move forward. I can’t allow you to continue getting close to me knowing your feelings. I know you said you’ll wait, but even if I became open to something in the future I doubt it would be approved by others.”

“What others? Ichigo? Who you haven’t seen in how long? Gin? Who, sorry to say, isn’t really your friend. No one else that matters knows our circumstances. You said you would fire me if things became personal, yet I’ve been in your bed countless nights for the past month, holding you after your nightmares. I know there’s something between us. You know it too.”

Uryū focused on the dark eyes, conflicted. He then laid his head back against his chair. “I need that donations letter.” He refused to tackle the matter because he couldn’t outright deny the man’s accusation of what was brewing between them. It was still too soon for that conversation.   

Shūkurō’s slighted laugh told of his frustration. “Look who’s changing the subject now.” He bent down and continued his search, only to stop shortly after. “The letter isn’t in this file cabinet.”

Uryū stared reflectively at the stacks of papers on his desk until his memory aided him. “Actually, Yumichika may have it. Last week he took some of the folders from this cabinet to alphabetically arrange the documents. It seems these things have been slipping my mind more often lately.”

“You’re tired and stressed.” Shūkurō’s gaze traveled the length of Uryū’s body. “Want a massage? It will relax you, maybe boost your energy.”

Considering the energizing effects, Uryū slipped off his shoes and propped his socked feet on Shūkurō’s chest. He was already on his fourth cup of coffee, so anything to help get through the day. Receiving a massage, usually once work hours concluded, wasn't uncommon. His troubled sleep led to sore and tense muscles that needed alleviation. Always fully clothed and dictating where he was touched, he convinced himself there was nothing inappropriate about the contact.

“Just something quick, in case I have more appointments today.” Uryū was reaching for his agenda when he realized his secretary was standing in the doorway. The man was silently watching their interaction, fixated on the way Shūkurō scrupulously kneaded the ball of his foot. Uryū tore his feet away then, planting them flat against the floor. Though embarrassed, he addressed his secretary with an even tone. “Do you need something, Yumichika?”

“I was coming to tell you Gin will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you. By the way, it’s quicker and more convenient to contact me via phone.” 

Yumichika nodded, his lips curved with a hint of amusement.

Uryū applied circular pressure to his temples as the man walked off. “How humiliating. He’s going to misinterpret things between us. I don’t understand why he doesn’t just use the phone. I had the reception desk built in the foyer for a reason.”

“It’s because he’s nosy.” Shūkurō offered. “Although what he misinterprets shouldn’t matter, if-“

“It DOES matter. My father is missing, which means we should be under the assumption he could return at any time. Imagine if rumors spread I’m behaving inappropriately with the hired help, turning my father’s home into a den of debauchery.” Uryū then dropped the volume of his voice. “If I’m behaving as if I know my father won’t return. It casts suspicion and compromises my reputation.”

Shūkurō smoothed a hand over his hair, letting the sting of the hired help comment pass. He could laugh, honestly, unsure how a simple foot massage equated a lair of sexual indulgence. “I was going to say, if it’ll make you feel better I’ll go talk to him to clear things up.” He waited for Uryū’s approval, took it upon himself to redress the man’s feet, and then went in search of Yumichika.

Uryū opened a desk drawer, continuing with the next task. He had much to do and enough stress without anymore additions. As one that spent a considerable amount of time in the office, he kept a lot of personal items nearby. That included the black box that came with his engagement ring. It sat distractingly close to his checkbook, the reason he went in the drawer. Shūkurō’s words about moving forward replayed through his mind. The man was obviously bias but the point was valid. He twisted the ring on his finger just like his emotions twisted inconclusively within him.

“Gin’s here.” said Shūkurō, returning to personally deliver the message. “I checked, he’s your last appointment of the day. When you’re done you should take a moment to unwind. We can grab a late lunch, that Caribbean place you like might be nice.”

“That does sound nice, actually.” Uryū agreed. “I’ll be out to meet Gin shortly.”  

Alone once more, Uryū returned to the ring. Slowly he ran his finger around the band then pulled it from his finger. He winced, the act feeling like ripping away part of the security blanket that kept him sane these last several months. Carefully he stuck the ring in the box and snapped the lid closed. Tomorrow, he would have the cameras removed from his other residence. He didn’t want to forget Nnoitra, he would never forget Nnoitra, but he also wanted to begin healing and it was time to take the next steps in that process.

He realized, even if he couldn’t openly admit it, he began those steps the instant he permitted Shūkurō to enter his bed. He recalled one night specifically, and the way he clung helplessly to the man, allowing him to rub his back after awaking in a cold sweat from a particularly terrifying nightmare. Memories of the faintest brush of lips on his forehead surfaced. A feeling he remembered as pleasant in his frightened and drowsy state. As far as he was concerned, he no longer deserved to wear Nnoitra’s ring. Now that it’s removed, it might be time to have that conversation with Shūkurō he’s been avoiding.

Holding firm to his resole concerning the matter, Uryū entered the foyer to find Gin there to greet him.

“Hello there, Uryū. My, aren’t you dapper. An all black Givenchy suit for a tea date? I feel underdressed.”

“More like I’m overdressed. You look great, Gin. Are those shoes from Gucchi’s new collection? Fabulous choice with that blazer.”

Shūkurō was in hearing range rolling his eyes.

“Thank you.” said Gin. “Hanging out with you I’ve certainly gained a few tips about style.” He adjusted the cuff of his jacket. “By the way, I hope you don’t mind, but I brought another to join us for tea.”

Uryū did mind, as he hadn’t prepared for an extra person. It was rather discourteous of Gin to spring this on him so unexpectedly. “Not a problem,” he said, maintaining a smile that wouldn’t reveal his annoyance. “Shūkurō, could you set a place for another guest?”

The man left for the task.

Gin went to the front doors, opening one. “He’s just grabbing the cake.” He then spoke to the person outside. “Alright, now give me that and stop stalling.” He accepted a pink bakery box then moved from the entryway. 

Uryū noticed the way Gin seemed particularly excited as he smiled at the open door. “Who did you say was joining us for tea?”

A hand gripped the inside of the frame and then the person of question entered the foyer.

Uryū’s eyes widened to dangerous widths as he staggered backwards from alarm. Despite the pristine prescription of his glasses, he was convinced he wasn’t seeing clearly. A shaking hand rose to adjust them and he squinted through the lens in disbelief. Mouth completely dry, he hasn’t realized it was hanging open until attempting to speak. “N-Nnoi- No… not possible.” When Nnoitra took a step towards him he backed away. “Not possible…” he repeated. Even as the man had advanced to but a foots distance away, he found himself flush against the wall trembling and still unconvinced.

Nnoitra leaned down, bracing a hand on each side of the wall behind Uryū. “Ya look like ya seen a ghost.” He smiled, that grin splitting his face in an all too familiar fashion.

Uryū’s knees gave way and long arms where there to catch him before he hit the floor.

“Been missin' my baby like crazy.” Nnoitra whispered in the crook of Uryū’s neck as he squeezed him tightly.

Uryū was in a daze, hanging limply in the other’s arms. Despite the overwhelming dizzy feeling he fought against passing out, though wasn’t entirely convinced he were actually conscious. “Is this a dream?”

“Hell yeah, a dream come true.”

No matter how he tried, Uryū couldn't wrap his mind around the situation in its entirety. However this came to be, he appreciated the opportunity to once again be with Nnoitra. Uryū grasped him, physically reassuring himself of the man’s presence. Reality began to take root and he felt that uncomfortable burn before the torrent that would follow.

Gin used a handkerchief to wipe a tear of his own. While the touching reunion had most of his focus, he hadn’t missed when Shūkurō returned. The man watched all from a distance. Everything from astonishment and despair to a murderous anger played across his face. Even in Gin’s corner of the foyer he could feel the intensity of the man’s malice, and didn’t doubt some of it was aimed directly at him. Afterwards, Shūkurō calmly slipped away with a schooled expression as if not just exhibiting the concerning various emotions. Then, there was the sound of glass shattering in the background. Gin peered around the room, but it seemed everyone was too riveted by Nnoitra’s return to notice. 

The next few days in that house would be interesting to say the least. Gin only hoped his planted eyes and ears would be present to report the details.

X_V_X

She turned the handle of the door, making certain it were locked, before stuffing the keys in her pocket. “Takin’ up my entire porch. I can’t even sit my ass down the way yer stretched across the steps.”

He moved over, making space for the women to sit beside him.

“Doin’ another job this week?” Tatsuki asked.

Ichigo viewed his phone for new notifications before answering. “Yeah. I’m just waitin’ on the call.”

“I’m leavin’ for work early so yer gonna be chillin’ alone. That cool?” When Ichigo nodded Tatsuki stood, zipping the front of her coveralls. “Be sure to stay safe. These streets ain’t no joke.”

Ichigo turned to her, the warning met with confusion. “Where’s that comin’ from all of a sudden?”

Tatsuki gave a forced smile. “Just always lookin’ out for my peoples.”  

It was two months ago Ichigo began the weekly visits. He would stop by to pass the time while waiting on calls pertaining to assignments from Gin. Tatsuki didn’t know a lot about Gin other than those that went to work for him disappeared for long periods, if not altogether. Word on the street was six months ago Nnoitra had been shot. Soon after Grimmjow left, the reasons vague but had something to do with working for Gin. She heard he’d been involved in the assassination of some bigwig across the tracks. Ikkaku and Shinji also took on a job for Gin around the same time and have yet to return. Overall, it sounded like the type of business you don’t get mixed up with. Her home, which was once bustling with friends, had become quite empty.

Tatsuki held out her fist. “Aight, I gotta get to work. Ya straight?”

Ichigo bumped the woman’s hand. “I’m fine. Go to work and stop worryin’. I’m not Karin. I don’t need parenting like I’m a younger sibling.”

While Tatsuki was well aware Ichigo old enough to make his own decisions, she couldn’t help recalling all the dangerous situations he tended to find himself in. As a friend, she did her part in raising caution and could only hope the man exercised sound judgment.

v-V-v

Removing the lid from the infuser, a warm, sweet aroma wafted from the cup. Based on the training she received, she understood the light, floral scent indicated the steeping leaves were perfectly brewed. Readying the tea for her boss, she listened to his phone exchange.

“Have you heard from Uryū today?” Gin was asking. “Oh no, nothing like that. It’s just I recently left a tea date and he had the most elegant new cup and saucer sets. Too bad they’ll all have to be replaced.”

Gin was then quiet, listening, as she dropped two rose petal sugar cubes into the cup. Dissolving the sugar with a spoon, the next part of his conversation caused her to pause mid-stir.

“Ichigo, I have to tell you your assignment will be different today. A friend of mine is setting up shop and could use the extra hands. I’ve volunteered a little of your time. I also placed an order there that you can bring me once you’re free. Someone is coming to pick you up so don’t leave Tatsuki’s.” Gin chuckled following a brief silence. “Are you not usually at her home? It’s an easy assumption to make, my dear. OK, I have to run, we’ll speak later.”

Gin hurried to end the call before Ichigo could ask more questions. Grinning, he sat back against the cushion of his office chair just as his secretary reached the side of his desk.

 “Your tea,” she announced, holding a tray. “I hope it’s to your preference. I didn’t want to interrupt your phone call.”

Gin accepted the presented cup and saucer, taking a sip of its contents before placing them next to a leather desk pad. “It’s excellent, perfect temperature as well.” After two weeks on the job she had finally mastered making a great cup of tea. Normally he wouldn’t hire secretarial staff; however, this woman had special circumstances. Between the trauma of her best friend’s murder and being unable to maintain steady employment since becoming a single mother, it moved him to reconsider. “I left some papers on your desk and the number to where they need faxing. Thank you, Menoly.”

Menoly bowed her head dutifully and hurriedly left the office.

O_o_O

Grimmjow carefully stepped over a fragile stickered box, the open flaps showed the ordinate designed plates wrapped thickly in bubble wrap. Hefting a box of similar contents, he carried it to an empty aisle. The bare shelves that greeted him were a reminder he had much work to do. Never did he imagine he would be operating his own store. Officially it was one of three owned by Kūkaku but he would oversee it. The boss used her connections to secure contracts with various vendors so their group could operate independently as retailers. The drug lord wasn’t yet ready to abandon her illegal hustles, she did however manage them with more discretion and kept them separated from their taxable income. Something Grimmjow could respect, even if this new position was temporary.

Owning a construction company, that was the ultimate goal. He realized how much he enjoyed working with his hands while spending the last six months renovating; the boss wanted to be hands on in the development of her first store. It was also a way for them to remain occupied during the hiatus. He wasn’t fond of academic settings, but a local school offered a construction management course. He would register after earned his high school diploma, a goal in arms reach now that he was home. An acquaintance specializing in carpentry already agreed to show him the ropes and it was uphill from there. As long as he stayed on the right path it was safer and had more benefits than dealing drugs. New developments he couldn’t wait to share with Ichigo.

Imagining his future was nice, but he preferred to live in the present, and presently it had been six months too long since he’s been with his boo. Ichigo’s home was the first place he stopped when returning to the city, but the man wasn’t there. Gin had intentionally called Ichigo away, thought surprising him under the guise of work would be more interesting. The plan was already in motion so Grimmjow would have to be patient just a little longer.

Y_v_Y

He didn’t like sitting alone, advertised like an open target, Ichigo decided. It made him feel as if he were being plotted on. Tatsuki’s presence did wonders in easing his consternation. Having company helped distract from the fact he didn’t exactly feel safe on this side of the tracks. Whether it was his current level of anxiety or the sound of the running motor veering his thoughts, Ichigo looked up to see a blue Honda stopped in the middle of the street. The blond behind the wheel was watching him.

“You’re Ichigo, right?” the blond asked once he was noticed.

Ichigo eyeballed the car and man sitting in it. “Who’s askin’?”

“I’m a friend of Gin’s, he sent me to pick you up. You ready to go?”

With that understanding Ichigo became less defensive and rounded the vehicle to sit in the passenger seat.

“I’m Yylfordt, by the way. It’s nice to meet you, Ichigo.”

“Likewise,” Ichigo extended his hand to the driver.

The blond looked at the hand like it were contaminated but accepted nonetheless.  

As awkward and questionable as that was, Ichigo tried to ignore it. “So… Yylfordt, what kind of work can I expect to do?”  

“What did Gin tell you?”

“Only that his friend is settin' up a shop and needs help.”

“If you can lift a few boxes there’s not much else to know.”

Ichigo wasn’t fond of the vagueness of this assignment, Gin was usually more straightforward than this. Since he trusted Gin and the experience working for him thus far had been pleasant, he wouldn’t keep stressing over the details. Right after Grimmjow left he sought employment with the silver haired man. The tasks began as menial chores, but enough convincing got him upgraded to running errands. While hesitant, Gin eventually assigned him work across the tracks. Ichigo thought spending time on this side of the city would help him feel closer to Grimmjow.

Gin was also able to periodically offer updates that Grimmjow was well. No particulars, but at least Ichigo knew he was still alive. Grimmjow’s phone number had been disconnected once he left so the ball was entirely in his court. As they pulled into a parking space outside an apartment building, he wondered if months of separation were long enough to change one’s feelings. The way his heart objected vehemently, knocking rapidly against his chest, let him know it wasn’t. Not for him, at least. He then wondered if Grimmjow had similar thoughts.

Twisting in his chair, Ichigo observed the neighborhood. The area looked more residential, not commercial like he was expecting. “The store is around here?” 

Yylfordt was typing a message on his phone and didn’t look up when responding. “No. We need to get a few items before heading there. It won’t take long.” he then jerked his chin at the closest numbered door. “Let’s go.”

Ichigo followed the blond to one of the apartments. The front door creaked and swung unsteadily on its hinges when opened. Yylfordt stepped aside to allow him access first. Ichigo walked across a laminate surface that stopped midway into the home. The current room he stood in was missing the majority of the flooring, like it was torn away or never finished. He imagined it would be a living room, but couldn’t be sure as the place was mostly unfurnished.

“They had to rip up the planks to clean all the blood that seeped underneath.”

Ichigo turned sharply to see Yylfordt perched in the doorway. There was a cruel edge to the man’s tone that made him more uncomfortable than the chilling revelation. His demeanor had also shifted. Despite the warmth of the deep cherry color of his eyes, there was an underlying emotion that made them appear quite cold.

Almost afraid of the answer, Ichigo asked, “What are you talkin’ about?”

“A woman was murdered here.” Yylfordt said matter-of-factly. “You didn’t know?”

“I’m not familiar with this area and haven’t heard anything about a murder.”

“Oh. Yeah, management was supposed to remodel the place, but no one wants to rent here because the crime was so gruesome. Anyway, let’s get the boxes so we can go.” His deportment changed again and he winked, appearing almost like a different person. Less threatening, Ichigo observed.

Ichigo forced a smile in return, unsure what to make of the man and his switch in behavior. Maybe he imagined it? Such a macabre disclosure would have anyone suspicious.

“They’re that way, towards the bedrooms.” said Yylfordt, pointing.

Ichigo walked in the appointed direction until coming to another empty room, no boxes in sight.

“Imagine this…” Yylfordt drawled behind him. “You come to see your closest friend for a routine visit and find her mangled, dead body in a pool of blood.”

Goosebumps manifested along Ichigo’s arms. He realized then that he hadn’t imagined Yylfordt’s shift. Something was off about the man and this so called job entirely. The onset of fear made him hesitant to move, but he turned to face the blond nonetheless. Ichigo inhaled sharply when setting eyes on the gun. Before realizing it his back was striking the wall in an attempt to put distance between himself and the firearm. Without direction his hands were raised.

Yylfordt continued. “The devastation causes you to pass out and you almost miscarry. My cousin was hospitalized for three months while she tried to regain a semblance of her sanity.”

“I’m sorry…” Ichigo managed in a whisper, unsure how to approach the unstable man.

“Your sorry isn’t what we want. Grimmjow wasn’t sorry when he killed Loly. He wasn’t sorry when he left her body for Menoly to find. My cousin hasn’t been the same since.”

Ichigo motioned to speak then rescinded the words, sealing his lips. Instead his head shook as he stared at the gun. So this was about Loly? Grimmjow said he wouldn’t kill her. Had he lied? All this time he assumed the thug scared the woman into fleeing town. He hadn’t insisted on details because the situation was handled, as Grimmjow said.

“Have something to say?” Yylfordt prodded curiously.

“I thought,” Ichigo looked directly at Yylfordt hoping the man would see the sincerity in his eyes. “I mean, I never wanted any harm to befall Loly. Ya sure Grimmjow was the one that killed her?”

With head cocked, Yylfordt studied Ichigo as if discovering something new. “You know the really fucked up part? And it wasn’t watching Menoly nearly loose her mind in the aftermath. Or the fact you might be mostly innocent in all of this but will die anyway. It’s the fact the neighbors heard Loly screaming and yet no one called the police, too afraid of being labeled a snitch to send her help. There are witnesses, too, but no one wants to get involved because of Grimmjow’s reputation. He has so much influence, but where is he now?”

“Yylfordt,” Ichigo spoke the man’s name with a plea. “I don’t know where Grimmjow is, but I promise whatever issues ya have with him we can fix it a different way.”

“Since Menoly can’t get close to Grimmjow or anyone in his immediate family, you’re the next best option in getting revenge for Loly. That's just the way it is, so there's no negotiating with me. And don't bother yelling or doing anything else annoying. If there are any neighbors they'll give you the same treatment they gave Loly.”

“But, I…” Ichigo wasn’t sure how to petition for his life. “I’m truly sorry about what happened to Loly and Menoly, your cousin? If it were up to me-“

Yylfordt yawned in the middle of Ichigo’s declaration and followed it with a sigh of disinterest. He then checked his phone, the gun tilting more towards the ceiling than his target. Ichigo thought about tackling him, wondering if he could gain control of the weapon. He swallowed nervously to moisten his drying throat and in that one moment of hesitation the opportunity passed.

“Menoly asked me to hold you here until she could come kill you herself.” Yylfordt steadied the gun on Ichigo’s chest. “While I agreed to slice you up to send Grimmjow a message, I would prefer to not get my hands dirty by killing you directly. Unfortunately, I don’t think we have the luxury of waiting. Whoever Gin actually sent to pick you up might be looking for you right now.”

Ichigo had forgotten all about Gin, but it was reassuring to know the man hadn’t betrayed him, he hadn’t been the one to send Yylfordt. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought back the tears that threatened. How many times would he look death in the face before it finally decided to take him? Frustrated, all he could do was hope for a second opportunity to attack. He put his family and friends through enough grief when he was shot the first time. Grimmjow also cared about him, loved him. Regardless of how long they’ve been apart he refused to believe anything but.

Dying was not an option.

U-v-U

Grimmjow twisted and jerked the doorknob, but it remained locked in place just as the first several attempts. He banged on Tatsuki’s door for what had to be the tenth time and still no answer. He didn’t understand. Ichigo’s coupe was parked out front yet no one appeared to be home. Aggravated, he stomped down the porch steps while making a call to Gin.

The man answered after a few short rings. “Was the reunion with your boo as heartwarming-”

“Where the fuck is he?” Grimmjow hadn’t the time for Gin’s prattle.  “Thought ya said to pick ‘im up at Tatsuki’s crib. His coupe’s here but not a muthafucka in sight. The fuck kind of game is this?”

“Last I was aware Ichigo was at her home. When we spoke I told him not to leave as someone would arrive to pick him up.”

“Then why the fuck ain’t he here?”

“Aright, Grimmjow. No need to get so riled, especially when I’m not there to enjoy it. Ichigo may have went somewhere with Tatsuki for whatever reason. You know I’m quite stringent when it comes to keeping tabs on him. He’s still unaware I installed the GPS tracker on his phone. I’ll check the location.”

Grimmjow huffed impatiently on the other end. It took six, long months until it was deemed safe enough to return, to be reunited with Ichigo. He refused to wait a second longer. As much as he detested the idea of his boo working for Gin, it wasn’t escort related and allowed keeping a closer eye on the red-head. That was the only reason he didn’t blow a gasket when Gin informed him he took Ichigo on as an employee. Near the end of his time away, he was actually thankful. He’d come to find receiving those monthly briefs detailing Ichigo’s activities played a considerable role in keeping him levelheaded.

It only took a minute for Gin to load the tracker’s information. “That’s odd. Why on earth would Ichigo be there, of all places?”

“Gin, stop bullshittin’ and spit it out already.”

“Oh dear… it appears he’s at the apartment building of one of my former employees. More specifically, Loly’s former apartment building. I’ll ca- Hello?” Gin heard a beep, then silence. He looked at his phone, the call had ended. He wasn’t sure what to make of the current circumstances, but he, too, found himself concerned about Ichigo.

T_v_T

He wasn’t sure at which point Yylfordt gained the upper hand, but Ichigo found himself on his back being choked. Everything happened in a blur. When he found another opening to attack he charged head first. Tackling Yylfordt threw them to the floor and the gun fell out of range. They grappled, rolling and punching at each other and now he was doing everything in his power to escape those hands at his throat.

Ichigo scratched violently at the other man’s chest and neck. Skin gathered under his nails and blood soaked the collar of Yylfordt’s shirt in a way that resembled a red, velvet necklace. The blond’s skin became so slick with the fluid that Ichigo’s nails could no longer find purchase. He resorted to digging his fingers in to the deep scratches. Yylfordt howled and dipped his head down to catch one of Ichigo’s fingers between his teeth, the bite tearing through flesh until gnawing with an animalistic frenzy on bone. Ichigo thought he would pass out. With some effort he had to pull his rolled eyes from the back of his head to see the blond mane, upon which his free hand captured a fistful and yanked. The force ripped most of the hair from the scalp and snapped Yylfordt’s head at an angle where his pained finger was freed.

Despite the scuffle, the hands around Ichigo’s throat wouldn’t relent and he found himself growing faint. A powerful slam somewhere in the distance registered, but he was more focused on the painful tension. His head felt so tight and fragile, like an overinflated balloon that would pop at any second. Just when he feared he was assured a loss in this fight, Yylfordt was gone. The blond was knocked away from him so abruptly it was like the man vanished into thin air. Ichigo blinked at the ceiling while he breathed deep, lungfuls of air and let the swimming feeling in his head subside. Then he turned towards the swearing and crashing of a tussle, seeing why he was free of Yylfordt. Ichigo’s heart lurched forward and brought his entire chest with it. His upper body had sprung up so he found himself in a sitting position, watching the two men with incredulity.

I-I

When Grimmjow heard Gin confusedly relay Ichigo’s location he knew something was amiss.  The locale had him think of one person, Menoly. Last he heard, following Loly’s death she disappeared, likely skipped town. She hadn’t pulled any of the same stunts as Loly so she wasn’t on his hit list. However, if Ichigo was in any way harmed and she played a role, he would personally hunt her down and send the bitch to meet her best friend. After violating every traffic law to quickly arrive at the apartment, grabbing his gun slipped his mind. When he kicked the door in and went in frantic search of Ichigo, only to find him being pinned and choked, he momentarily blacked out.

Grimmjow came around when he heard his name shouted but was too engrossed in the task at hand. He couldn’t say he recognized the blond he was beating, and it wasn’t due to the blood on the man’s face or disfiguring wound to his eye. Grimmjow’s bloody knuckles painted a picture of how those injuries were received. Like the blond had the upper hand over Ichigo, Grimmjow now had the advantaged position. Straddling the man’s body, he brought his fist down and impact sent teeth rolling across the carpet. Using bare hands, up close and personal like this, he didn’t miss his gun. To beat to death someone who dared hurt Ichigo felt more fitting.

Ichigo was in the background screaming something Grimmjow was too enraged to comprehend. He reared his fist back for the next blow and intense pressure struck his right oblique. It was an unwelcomed interruption, but he focused and brought the fist down to impact his target’s jaw, the crack that accompanied a satisfying sound. At his side the pressure grew more intense, deeper and enough of a distraction that the blond was able to roll their bodies, taking the top position.

Not until Grimmjow saw the wide bladed knife yanked from his side, glistening with red, did he realize he’d been stabbed. A split second later it was driven back in, the pressure returned and this time he was aware of his flesh splitting around the warm steel. It was the thunderous blast that brought him out of shock. The blond froze, pain contorting his face. Grimmjow pushed him away when it appeared he would collapse against his chest. He knew what happened; he could recognize that sound anywhere.

Ichigo stood across the room, the gun, still pointed, locked between trembling hands. His eyes, wide and glossy, held unshed tears. He mouthed words but made not a single sound.

Grimmjow stood slowly and cautiously approached. “Here, boo,” he said, holding out his hand as if to lure an undomesticated animal. “Lemme hol’ that piece.”

Oblivious to Grimmjow’s instruction, Ichigo appeared to be in an almost trance-like state. “Is he… dead?” he rasped, voice painfully horse and not recovered from the choking. “I had no choice. What was I supposed to do? He was gonna kill you so I had no choice.” he was on the verge of hyperventilating. “I… I can’t believe I just killed someone. I just took a life.”

Grimmjow steadied the man’s hands and peeled Ichigo’s fingers from the weapon. He returned to the blond, a quick inspection of the hole in his back showed the location likely pierced his heart. He was neither moving nor breathing, but to ease Ichigo’s torment he fired into the back of the blond’s head. To placate his own rage, he did so until the clip emptied and dry firing produced nothing but a faint click.  

“Nah,” Grimmjow glared down at the corpse with a blazing fury still yet to cool. “I killed ‘im. Muthafucka ain’t comin’ back from that.”

Ichigo had long since averted his eyes from the body, his breathing somewhat calmed. “He was still alive?” he voiced the question with much doubt.

Keeping and tucking the gun away, Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo’s chin, forcing the man to look at him. Thick, red prints marring Ichigo’s neck drew his eye and his hand slid down to massage the swelling marks. The thug’s jaw clenched, wishing the blond were alive to suffer and be killed again. “Listen,” he growled, unable to conceal his anger. “Ya shot ‘im, but it was my bullets that took the sorry ass muthafucka’s life. That body’s on me. Got that?”

Ichigo nodded fervently. Knowing he at least didn't deal the final blow offered a modicum of comfort that alleviated some of the weariness on his face. Looking into those reassuring blue eyes after six months, regardless of the event to proceed this moment, he sighed a long-held breath of relief. How much he had missed that man couldn’t be articulated from any words in his vocabulary. Leaning in for a welcome back kiss would’ve been his next move were it not for the dead body in the corner, an awareness that was making him ill now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade. He had a laundry list of questions for Grimmjow and imagined the thug would be equally inquisitive. But right now wasn’t the time. Heart-thumping panic filled Ichigo recalling how Yylfordt brandished the knife, the weapon seemed to materialize out of nowhere during the chaos, and plunged it into Grimmjow’s side.

“You were stabbed.” he proclaimed, ducking around Grimmjow’s arm to inspect the injuries. Ichigo’s complexion, in spite of its flushed, raspberry hue from the ordeal, faded to a pale, sickly color. The entire right of Grimmjow’s dark shirt was saturated with blood. The knife, which was buried nearly to the handle, jutted from the man’s body. Ichigo quaked with the force of trying to restrain a sob. He couldn’t contain the tears though; they fell from regretful eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. He knew the gun was there, but relied on Grimmjow to do the necessary he’d been too spineless to attempt until it was too late. He let cowardice endanger the man he loved. With that recognition he straightened. He could berate himself later and take an oath to never be so pathetic again. Right now, he was determined to pull himself together.

“We’ve got to get to a hospital. Now.” Ichigo lead Grimmjow out the room and through the apartment. “Don’t touch or try to remove the knife. It could aggravate the damage or you could… bleed out.” he shook visibly with the words. “I’m sorry, so, so, sorry. If only- I wished I acted sooner…”

Grimmjow was surprisingly unruffled, phlegmatic, even, towards his injury. “Don’t trip, this ain’t nothin’. I can hardly feel it.” The dull, throbbing ache wasn’t present when he was initially stabbed, but the pain was there now. Still, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t solider through.

“You could have internal injuries, internal bleeding. Don’t make light of this.” Once outside, Ichigo used his forearm to wipe his eyes, clearing his tear blurred vision. Despite all the commotion, he was surprised to see no curious bystanders investigating the noise. It was better this way. While the actions taken against Yylfordt were in self defense, he had a feeling Grimmjow didn’t want the matter reported. As his hands were also dirty, literally, with Yylfordt’s blood and gunshot residue, Ichigo wasn’t sure how this would settle with his conscious as time passed. He would deal with the aftereffects later. 

“Where are your keys?” Ichigo asked.

The thug grunted disapprovingly. “All that cryin’ and shit yer doin’, be done crashed my ride.”

Ichigo whirled around, accosting the man. “Wanna call the paramedics and wait god knows how long before they arrive? Or would ya rather drive yourself with a fucking knife skewered through your side? I’m upset because I fucked up and you’re hurt, but I can still drive. Hand over your keys, Grimmjow.”

Grimmjow raised a brow at the audacious directive, but given his current condition knew he was in no position to argue or assert authority. “Right pocket,” he said, amused that the man was already searching his jeans. Ichigo meant business, that concentrated scowl said so. He was too cute. Grimmjow couldn’t resist stealing a kiss off the corner of Ichigo’s frowning lips once he was in range.

Ichigo snapped his head up, caught completely off guard. Some of his color returned.

Grimmjow was smirking, but his eyes were serious, searching. “Still love me?”

“Wha- o-of course I still love you!” Ichigo stumbled over his words as if offended that the man even dared to present the question. The answer should be obvious.

His insult didn’t last as the slew of dark cars pulling in front of the building became their focus. With slammed doors, the arriving vehicles emptied and the group advanced. As the rough-looking men neared, Ichigo shifted to a defensive stance, his arm extended protectively across Grimmjow.

Grimmjow couldn’t see his face, but the tense muscles in Ichigo’s shoulders said he was ready to fight, to protect, even though the odds would be against them. His heart swelled with emotion. Had they truly spent six months apart? Six months unable to have so much as a phone conversation for fear it would compromise his location? If their actions for each other were any indication it certainly didn’t feel like it. Luckily, Ichigo had the situation all wrong.

“Chill, boo, they’re cool peoples.” Grimmjow gently lowered the man's arm.

Ichigo's shoulders sagged with relief, especially watching the largest man who was quite savage looking with his untamed hair and scarred face. He had no clue how he would’ve defended Grimmjow against someone like that, but would do whatever necessary to ensure he wasn’t further harmed.

“Sup, Ken?” Grimmjow spoke.

Kenpachi’s gaze jumped between the two disheveled men, then stopped on the knife protruding from Grimmjow’s body. “Status?”

“Shit’s handled. Left one muthafucka inside takin’ a dirt nap.”

“So one casualty and you were injured in the assault. One of my men can transport you to medical.” Kenpachi began barking orders to those that arrived with him.

With Ichigo close by Grimmjow followed the person who was designated to drive. This arrangement was best, as he still felt neither of them fit to safely operate a vehicle. They eased into the backseat of the transportation, Ichigo pressed against Grimmjow’s flank, opposite the knife.

“Gin’s goon squad,” said Grimmjow, imagining Ichigo was curious. “Must’a dispatched ‘em after I hung up. Already know ya got a fuckton of questions.”

“No. I mean yes, I have questions, but the only thing I care about right now is if you’ll be alright.”

They rode over a pothole, Grimmjow grimaced at the jarring this caused the knife. “I’m straight, jus’ need a lil patchin’ up.” He tried to sound reassuring, but after that display of pain, which Ichigo watched with bated breath and worried eyes, he knew those words would hold little validity. “Real talk, long as yer good, I’m good. And yer good, right?”

Ichigo nodded, lifting his hands stiff with drying blood. “This isn’t mine, by the way.” When Grimmjow noticed the condition of his chewed finger and grabbed his wrist to get a better look, he added, “Well, not all of it.”

With a serious glower, Grimmjow began searching for more injuries. He yanked the front of Ichigo’s shirt, lifting it high to examine his torso. He saw a lot of redness, some spots which would later turn into awful bruising but not much else.

After having his chest, stomach and back thorough inspected, Ichigo shoved the front of his shirt down, glancing at the driver of the car. “Seriously, I’m fine.” The way Grimmjow gently caressed his ribs and ran a hot hand along his back, he hardly felt comfortable with another person present. It wasn’t like the gentle but detached touch of a medical professional. It was personal, the loving touch of someone who enjoyed his body before and intended to reacquaint themselves with it once circumstances allowed.

A laugh rumbled from the thug seeing the way Ichigo covered himself like he had breasts and they’d just been exposed. “My bad, ain’t mean to flash yer titties like that.” He had to brace a hand near the knife, cursing breathlessly as each chuckle multiplied the throbbing.

Ichigo couldn’t find himself humored. “Don’t laugh, it’s causing you more pain.”

Ichigo fretting over him the way he was, Grimmjow truly felt loved. He collected himself enough to level the pain, allotting more focus on composing his thoughts. If by some unfortunate event the knife wounds killed him, he’d have no regrets since Ichigo was in turn safe. He was changing his life in part for Ichigo and he would proudly give his life for Ichigo. He concentrated heavily upon this reality now, just as he had for the last several months. He only needed to confirm Ichigo would stay loyal to him in his absence, which the man had.

“Been takin’ care of my ring?” Grimmjow asked.

Ichigo dared not glance at his blood caked fingers. “I’ll have to get it cleaned now, but yes. I’ve never taken it off.”

Grimmjow was quiet a long time before speaking again. “Word. Keep hol’in it for me.”

Ichigo brooded through the silence, wondering if he'd have to relinquish the ring. He was pleased that wasn’t the case. “I didn’t get to say this before, but thanks for entrusting me with somethin’ so important. I know the ring holds a lot of sentimental value and it helped me feel connected to you while you were away. Even though you’re back, I appreciate being allowed to wear it a little longer.”

Grimmjow cast a glance out the car window, his thoughts too occupied to regard the passing scenery. “Was thinkin’ a lot longer, like forever.”

“Or forever, that sounds good… too.” It took that word, forever, looping around Ichigo’s understanding multiple times until it sank in.  His insides seized before he could warn himself against jumping to conclusions. Every amount of composure he could muster was needed to calmly make his next statement. “I like the sound of forever... That’s a long time.”

Grimmjow snorted a laugh. “No shit. But that’s what I want, yer boo status to last a long ass time.” He turned his head then, looking into Ichigo’s eyes. “For a minute, I couldn’t figure how some orange haired punk could have my heart on lock, or how ya fell for a crazy muthafucka like me. When I had time to think on it, on us, knew it must be pots and lids type shit.”

Puzzlement almost creased Ichigo’s brow, but he understood in time for a smile to smooth it away. There’s a lid for every pot, was the actual adage. He assumed Grimmjow meant as much without interrupting him to confirm.

Grimmjow reached his arm around Ichigo’s shoulders, allowing them to sit more snuggly. “All I know is I’m’a always need my boo, just like I’m’a always need a light for my swisha.” His hand played in soft, orange strands, twirling them around his fingers. “I’m ‘bout to make big things happen, so if yer rockin’ wid ya mans for the long haul I’ll make sure we straight, always. We gon’ ride to the very end like ’03 Bonnie and Clyde. So what’s good? Ya down?”

Ichigo understood the significance of what was said even if some of the verbiage went over his head.  _I love you_ would have summed up a lot, but of course Grimmjow wouldn’t use straightforward words such as those. Ichigo expected nothing less. He chuckled in soundless exhalations while the happiest of tears filled his eyes. So choked up with joyous sentiment, he could just barely express acceptance. "I'm down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explaining further: While I always wanted an open-ended finish, my original intentions for that came with the idea I wanted to write a spinoff of some sort. Knowing that wouldn’t happen, I was torn but did it anyway. Looking back, there are a lot of things I would’ve done differently with this fic, but it is what it is. I originally decided against posting the epilogue because it was, in part, a bridge to things that wouldn’t come. But hopefully this closes more doors than it opens.


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